Uptown Girl
by siophiefandom
Summary: Uptown girl She's been living in her uptown world I bet she's never had a backstreet... uh, gal Paily (Paige McCullers and Emily Fields) Based on the song by Billy Joel, from a prompt by paigemarie712. Rated T for some adult language and situations.
1. Opposites Attract

Paige lost track of how long she had been standing in front of the window. She had one arm across her waist, holding onto the other arm at the elbow as she stared down at the families playing in the park, some fourteen floors below. She used to love that view. It was what initially sold her on the condo. And she still loved it, but things were different. Her senses seemed dulled, somehow.

It would have been inaccurate to say that she was lost in thought. It wasn't really her thoughts that she was caught up in. It was a mood; a general malaise. Or maybe an ennui.

Paige flinched just slightly, surprised by the touch Tuesday's fingertips on her arms in that moment before she kissed her favorite spot on Paige's neck – that spot about a half inch north of Paige's shoulder blade, where a kiss always sent a tickle down Paige's spine. True to form, Paige twisted into herself, her shoulder coming up reflexively to protect the top of her neck. She smiled softly, leaning back against her girlfriend without turning around.

Tuesday cocked her head to the side in an attempt to catch the expression on Paige's face. "You okay?"

Paige nodded.

Tuesday rubbed her hands up and down Paige's arms, getting up on her tiptoes to kiss a safer spot on the back of Paige's neck – one that wouldn't send her into convulsions. She wasn't sure how Paige was feeling, and she didn't want to annoy her. "You've just been staring out of that window…" Her voice trailed off.

Paige sighed, still staring. "Do you ever get bored?"

"Oh yeah," Tuesday chirped cheerfully. "And that's when, you know, I gas up the jet and head to Cabo, or the Greek Islands, or Monaco…"

Paige laughed, snorting through her nostrils with her lips unparted. Turning around she slid her arms around Tuesday's waist, and Tuesday slid her arms up to Paige's shoulders. Paige kissed her on the forehead.

Tuesday was simple, but not in the sense that most people thought of her. She wasn't simpleminded. On the contrary, she was pretty much a genius. But she was a product of her upbringing. Her family had what's known as generational wealth, and, whereas her brothers had been steered into business school and he law to maintain that wealth, the path that the family set for her was different. She was her father's only daughter, and it became apparent very early that she would never be expected to work for a living.

Like Paige, she had gone to all of the best schools, where she showed a particular aptitude for math. But when it came time to choose a major in college, she went with Art History, doing much of her study abroad. She never really understood why Paige worked so hard at her classes, and why she chose to study business when she obviously hated it. In Tuesday's mind, it was simple: If it doesn't bring you joy, do something else. And, so, she wasn't being flippant when she said she'd jet off somewhere when she got bored. That was just the life she knew

Paige never had that luxury. Although she, too, had grown up with wealth, she didn't have the same _privilege. _Her father had worked hard to get to where he was in life, and he wanted to make sure that his only child knew the value of hard work. Paige didn't grow up with "help" – maids, gardeners, cooks, and drivers. Or with horses. Or spur-of-the-moment intercontinental trips to chase away the boredom.

Paige let it drop. She knew that there was no way to explain to Tuesday the kind of boredom that she was feeling. In some ways, she wished that she could look at life through Tuesday's eyes, but on a much deeper level, she realized that being able to live like Tuesday would mean giving up a fundamental part of who she was. She smiled, bemused. She didn't feel like thinking about it anymore. Instead, she rubbed Tuesday's back. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

Tuesday sighed, knowing that she could never convince Paige. Still, she squeezed Paige's arms and, crinkling her forehead, pleaded, "We could actually do it, you know. That place isn't going to fall apart if you're not there for a couple of days."

"I know." Paige chose to concede the argument rather than have the same old discussion again. There was no point. They both knew that she was never going to do anything on the spur of the moment.

Paige peeked over at the door at the sound of a whoosh as a piece of paper being slid under it. She disengaged herself from Tuesday and went over to see what the condo association was up to this time. Her expression and her shoulders dropped as she took in the quick memo advising them that the construction crews would be back on Monday.

Tuesday quirked an eyebrow, wondering what was up, and Paige held up the note for her to take a look. Her face brightened and she clapped her hands together. "Yay!"

"You've got to be kidding me!" Tuesday tilted her head quizzically. "Why on earth would you be looking forward to that?"

"Oh, Paige!" she smiled, poking her gently with a side-fist. "Where's your sense of adventure? It's like a little microcosm of the world. They come, they set up their own little city, complete with plumbing and shelter, digging into the Good Earth and sacrificing for her bounty." To Tuesday, it was like a reality show, and she had a prime seat in the balcony.

Paige tightened her lips. "Yeah. And, meanwhile, they're jackhammering away while I'm trying to sleep or get some work done. Not to mention the smell of raw sewage coming from their – as you so delicately put it – portable plumbing facilities." Paige snorted bitterly. "And, then, of course, there's the catcalling and harassment."

Tuesday shrugged her shoulders, smiling nonchalantly. "Just have some fun with it!" Paige rolled her eyes. Tuesday had no idea how demeaning it was to have to walk past the gaggle of horny, salivating men on the way to work in the morning.

"How about this?" Tuesday moved to Paige's side and took her arm. "I can come down and walk with you!" Rubbing Paige on the bottom, she added, "And I'll be all flirty, you know, to throw them off the scent. Let them know that you're already taken."

Paige rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Yeah," she said sarcastically, "Two women walking hand in hand. That'll _definitely _shut them up!"

* * *

Paige slammed her hand down on the alarm clock with a little extra force. It wasn't just a Monday. The construction workers were back.

She sloughed out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the water to give it time to heat up. After an especially long, hot shower, she brushed her teeth, grabbed an apple, and kissed her sleeping girlfriend. She called for her car on the way to the elevator and waited at the front desk till it arrived, wanting to make sure that she wasn't standing in construction-land for a second longer than she had to. All in vain.

It was as if the men had radar. As soon as the building's sliding doors opened, the whistles and rude comments started. Paige put her head down and headed for the car. Out of the blue, she heard a different kind of whistle – one intended to get people's attention.

"Hey!" an authoritative female voice commanded. "Knock it off!"

Paige knew that she should just keep going, but she couldn't help herself. She froze in her tracks, one hand holding the shoulder strap of her briefcase and the other securing it against her waist, and turned in the direction of the voice. The woman was relatively tall, but she looked short next to the men on the team. Like them, she wore jeans, an orange vest, and a yellow hard hat, but her shirt was cut off at the sleeves, and it was obvious from her toned arms that she could hold her own with them.

The men were comically bowing and apologizing sarcastically. "Oh, sorry, _Boss_," one said, and soon they were all repeating his words like a Greek chorus.

"I'm not kidding," she said with authority. "I'm not having this crap on my site!" The bowing and fawning stopped immediately. "Now get back to work!"

The woman looked at Paige with a slight smile and mouthed, "Sorry." Paige smiled gratefully and turned towards the car again. The woman sped up, getting to the car first, where she opened the door with an overly dramatic flourish. Paige saw the name "FIELDS" stenciled in black on the back of the woman's hard hat as she stepped past her, into the backseat. She gave her another smile, dipping her head in gratitude as she pulled her legs into the car, sliding her briefcase into her lap and angling her legs in front of her. The door shut with a soft thud, and Paige stared as FIELDS, smiling, watched the car pull away, waving the whole time.

Paige was glad for the tinted windows. She could see out, but FIELDS couldn't see her turned around in her seat, watching her stand and stare at the limo until it turned the corner. Only when FIELDS was out of view did Paige swivel into the correct riding position, moving her briefcase to the empty seat next to her and putting on her seat belt. There was a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach; one that she hadn't felt since the locker rooms in high school. This was different, though. It wasn't that tension between knowing that she couldn't be attracted to girls and yet being surrounded by girls who, she knew, were attractive. This wasn't that tension, that came from denying what was right in front of her. Paige had long since stopped denying that she was attracted girls. But she was already in a relationship. She wasn't looking for someone new. She wasn't attracted to FIELDS.

Once she was strapped in, she reached into the side pocket of the briefcase for her phone and Googled "_construction workers_." She switched to an image search and quickly realized that she needed to specify, "_construction workers female_." As she began swiping through a few of the hundreds of pictures of women in Halloween costumes that would best be described as "_construction workers slutty_," she wondered whether Tuesday would be game for a little role playing. She would look cute in a construction uniform.

All of the women in the pictures were blonde, like Tuesday, with their hair flowing out from under their hardhats. FIELDS had her hair tucked into her hardhat, but enough was peeking through for Paige to see that she was a brunette. She quickly typed "brunette wigs" into the search bar and swiped through a few, trying to decide what kind of hair FIELDS would have. Something was a little off, though. It occurred to Paige that the models were all too pale; they didn't have that perfect, honey complexion that FIELDS had. Maybe Cabo wasn't such a bad idea for Tuesday after all, Paige thought. Maybe a couple of weeks in the sun would put some color in her cheeks.

"So, how was your weekend, Ms. Mc –" Allen caught himself mid-sentence. "_Paige_?"

Paige laughed to herself at how awkward that name sounded coming out of his mouth. Allen was one of her favorite drivers. He was so real and down-to-earth. And, yet, somehow, he couldn't quite make peace with the fact that she wanted him to call her by her first name.

"It was fine, Mr. Keeg – _Allen_," she shot back, smiling wryly at him in the rear view mirror. "Pretty low-key. How about yours?"

"I should be so lucky!" he said with his gruff, personable laugh. "You know, I hadda shlep the family down to the shore, get 'em all packed up, pack 'em all into the car, 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'" He was complaining, but his face was lit up like an excited child's.

"You loved it," Paige said, smiling broadly.

Allen shrugged his shoulders, lifting one hand from the steering wheel. "What can I say?" he said sheepishly as he turned his head and glanced into the backseat. "I love my family. That's what it's all about, ain't it?"

* * *

**A/N: Hello, all - This story is the result of a prompt from the patron saint of Paily fan-fictions, paigemarie712 (on tumblr; for some homophobic reason, tumblr has marked her blog for adult content, but all that's on it is Paily!). She has the patience of a saint, because she sent me the prompt way back when I finished my last story, but I've just now gotten a chance to start publishing. Please bear with me; I'm really eager to write this story, but, for some reason, I'm having a hard time putting it together. :{**

**(By the way, I was originally going to try to give each chapter a title based on lyrics in a Billy Joel song, but "Opposites Attract" seemed too perfect for this chapter. How many opposites can you spot? :) )**

**Thanks for giving it a shot! Much love!**


	2. Stalkers

Emily turned away from the curb and back towards her crew once Paige's car was out of sight. She shouldn't have been surprised to see that they hadn't gone back to work. They were standing there, in a crooked line, observing the scene that had just played out in front of them. "Ooh, guys," Johnny said, loud enough to be overheard, "I think we struck a nerve! This one's personal!" The crew stood in place like naughty schoolboys outside the principal's office, trying their best not to laugh.

"Hey!" Emily said in her most authoritative voice, trying her best to get rid of the smile on her face. "What if that were your sister? Or your daughter?"

"Or your _girlfriend_?" Carmine yelled. As soon as he said it, none of them could hold back their laughter any longer.

Not even Emily. She shook her head as she approached the guys, breaking into a jog to set an example. They had a lot of work to do. "Come on," she said pleasantly. "This scaffolding isn't going to raise itself."

Emily had worked with this crew for just shy of a year on various projects throughout Center City. They were skeptical, at first, about working for a woman, but she won them over by showing that she could pull her weight. Some of the foremen they'd had in the past liked to be in authority figures and give orders, but they respected the fact that Emily was willing to dive in with them and get her hands dirty. She was a no-nonsense boss; nonsense, she liked to say, was how accidents happen. It was a quote she'd learned from her father, from his days in the military. But no nonsense didn't mean no fun. Emily was strong enough to put up with a little good-natured teasing, and she could dish it out as well as she took it. And she didn't have a problem pounding down a couple of beers with them on Friday nights, never hesitating to pick up the tab when it was her round. It didn't take long for her to become one of the gang, and, as one of the gang, it didn't matter to her crew whether she was foreman or crew, male or female, gay or straight.

At the bar, they still talked about women, although their conversation was noticeably less raunchy and more respectful. They were definitely on Emily's side, wanting her to find someone. That was the one way that they treated her differently than they would have treated a male foreman. She was like their little sister, and always kept their eyes out for someone who knew someone who had a daughter or a cousin who was into girls. It was a little annoying, but Emily appreciated where their hearts were.

* * *

Emily sat in her trailer looking over plans, tapping a pencil against the blueprints, not really paying attention to what was going on. She took a sip of coffee that was a little too cold and a little too bitter after sitting in the cup too long. Even at its best, though, the coffee on the construction site was nothing compared to the drinks that she used to make back in Rosewood, in another life. She had no regrets about leaving behind her small town for the excitement of Philadelphia. Well, there was the one, big regret. It had certainly easier to meet people back home.

Emily found herself smiling as her mind flashed to the tall, beautiful woman from earlier that morning. She remembered the way the woman's sexy but still business-like black heels clattered as she walked briskly to the car, to get away from the attention of the crew; remembered how her perfectly tailored black suit caressed her curves when she bent her legs and climbed into the safety of the limo; remembered the sort of grateful half-smile that the woman shot her before she closed the door. Emily wasn't the kind of person who was overly impressed by wealth. She'd known the rich and the ultra-rich back in Rosewood; known them well enough to realize that they had the same problems as the rest of the world. But there was something about this woman and her impeccable, put-together look that Emily couldn't get out of her head. She imagined the auburn-haired woman fresh out of the shower in the morning, with one towel wrapped around her torso and another wrapped like a turban on her head as she tugged at a couple of the suits in her walk-in closet, finally choosing one that matched her mood and her agenda and laying it onto the bed, where her bra and panties had already been laid out. Lace, certainly; probably silk. Or maybe satin, if she were feeling a little frisky.

"Shit!" Emily quickly reached for a roll of paper towels, picked up the coffee cup that she had just knocked over, dabbing at the liquid that was rolling over toward the blueprints. It served her right. She shouldn't have been thinking those thoughts. Not on the job. Not anywhere.

"Everything okay, Emily?" Brad said, poking his head in the trailer, brandishing a crowbar.

"Yeah, I just…" Emily looked up and saw the crowbar. "Holy crap, Brad! What did you think?"

"I just thought…" Brad dropped his head and shrugged his shoulders, embarrassed. "A rat, or something." He seemed disappointed that there was nothing for him to rescue her from.

Emily grinned appreciatively. "It's good to know you've got my back."

* * *

"And see what you can find out about the construction company that's working on my building," Paige said, after rattling off about ten minutes of instructions to her assistant, Winston.

Winston was furiously scribbling notes into his portfolio, but he wasn't rattled. He was a slight little man, a couple of inches shorter and, Paige surmised, about ten pounds or so lighter than she was. He was dressed in what was sort of a uniform for him, a light-toned tweed suit with a green sweater and bow tie, matched by the pocket square in his breast pocket. He was fastidious about the way he looked, and he was very good at what he did. And what he did was make Paige look good. She never had to worry about being late or unprepared or caught off guard, with Winston on top of things.

"The foreman," Paige continued. "'Fields,' I think her name is."

Winston clicked his tongue looked up, smiling cattily at Paige. "And what did Ms. Fields do?" he said, eager to hear the succulent details.

Paige stifled a laugh. "Nothing bad," she assured him. "She actually kind of bailed me out."

"Got it," Winston intoned, scribbling away again. "Roses for Ms. Fields."

As he turned to go, Paige called him back. "Uh, Winston?" Winston turned around, giving Paige his full attention. "Not roses…"

"Carnations?" Paige shook her head. Winston spoke again before she could get a word in. "Daisies?" Paige opened her mouth to protest. "Chocolates?"

Paige put her hand up to get Winston to chill. "Just a first name, please." No need to send a gift and give Fields – or Winston – the wrong impression.

"Got it!" Winston rolled his eyes as he said the words, letting Paige know that she wasn't fooling anybody with her nonchalant act. With more theatricality than was called for, he vigorously crossed out the notes that he had just written. "No… flowers…," he said, drawing out the words for effect as he wrote them down, "Just… the… name." Winston holstered his pen and, smiling slyly without looking up at Paige, muttered, "I'll have the roses sent to Tuesday instead."

Paige pointed her index fingers at him, smiling gamely. "You're the best."

Winston smirked as he turned on his heels. "I know."

Paige snorted at his implied rebuke once he left. He was right. Flowers go to the girlfriend, not to the chivalrous stranger.

* * *

Emily checked her rear view mirror and made the turn onto Walnut Street. She usually didn't drive in the theater district on Friday nights. There was more money to be made down by the hotels, with people who needed to get to the airport. Not to mention the fact that, despite what most people think, rich people – the kind of people who go out to the theater or to concerts on Friday nights – aren't big tippers. Plus, they can be very rude and entitled. Most of the time, Emily wouldn't have bothered. It wasn't worth the hassle.

But things had changed, and Emily found herself cruising Broad Street, on the odd chance that she'd get a ping to take someone from Rittenhouse Square down to the Kimmel Center. And maybe there'd be three of them in the group, so one of them would have to sit up front. And that one person would be the woman from the construction site. She would glance over at Emily and open her mouth to say something – wondering out loud where she'd seen Emily before – but would remain silent, afraid that it would sound like a line. And Emily would give her a knowing glance and a sly wink, keeping her cool as if she didn't remember the tall, fit woman whom she had caught staring at her.

Emily smiled, wiping the smile off of her face. It wasn't a very realistic hope, but it was something. And she needed something. Now that the scaffolding fencing were up in the front of the woman's building, there wasn't much of a chance that Emily would run into her again. And, besides, Emily wanted the woman to see her in another light; wearing something other than jeans, a yellow safety vest, and a hardhat. She wanted her to see that she could rock dress. And that she drove a Prius. And listened to NPR.

It was stupid.

Even if the woman did take an Uber into town instead of a private car, and even if Emily wound up getting that call, it was stupid to think that the woman would be impressed. "Oh, she's not just some brute who works with her hands! She a brute who has to drive an Uber for a little extra cash!"

Emily brushed her fingers through her hair, letting her hand slam down on the steering wheel when she finished. She almost felt like crying at how pathetic her life was. Cruising around on a Friday night, on the off chance she'd run into a woman whose name she didn't know and who wouldn't be impressed anyway – and who, odds are, wasn't even gay. She reached over to the radio and tuned it back from NPR to the Motown station.

* * *

"Hey, Babe." Paige's voice was a bit lackluster.

"Hey – everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just on my way home. I wanted to see whether you'd started dinner yet."

"I was about to. Why? Any requests?"

"I thought we might check out this new place I heard of."

"Sounds good. How should I dress?"

"Casual." Paige paused, but her tone made it clear that she had more to say. "I… uh… When I say this place is 'new,' I mean it as in... _different_." Paige was rambling. She sensed that she needed to get to the point. "Con Murphy's?"

"Con Murphy's? What's that?"

"You know," Paige prompted, "that bar across the street from Tenth Pres."

Tuesday burst out laughing. "Oh, shit, Paige! Whoo! You got me!"

Paige rolled her eyes and shifted her phone, doing a quick search. "I'm serious."

"Um… _okay…" _Tuesday sounded confused. "And what possessed you to choose that place?"

"I don't know. I read something about it."

"Where? The Wall Street Journal?" Tuesday tried but failed to stifle a laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Fine," Paige conceded with a sigh. "We don't have to…"

"No. No!" Tuesday said reassuringly. "It sounds like fun. I'm always down for something new. Do we need reservations or…" Tuesday wasn't making fun of the place by asking that. She was being sincere.

"I don't think so."

"Okay, well, I can be ready by the time you get here."

"Okay," Paige said dryly. "No rush."

Paige ended the call after the obligatory love-yous and let out a deep sigh. She hadn't been totally honest with Tuesday. She hadn't read a review about Con Murphy's; she just noticed some men in construction garb going in there for a drink after work. She did enough research to determine that it wasn't just a bar; it served food, too.

It was a longshot, and she hadn't really thought it through. There was no guarantee that Emily (the first-name that Winston had tracked down for "FIELDS") would be there, but, even if she was, Paige hadn't thought through how she'd handle it with Tuesday. "Oh, look! It's the person I told you about – the one who rescued me from those rowdy construction workers!" Paige had told Tuesday that story, but she had failed to mention that her rescuer was female. There was no reason for her to leave out that detail, she convinced herself. It was almost a feminist gesture _not_ to mention that her savior had been a woman. But Tuesday might have seen things differently, if she saw just how attractive Paige's savior was.

Paige was on a slippery slope, and she knew it. Maybe Con Murphy's was her way of forcing a confrontation with Tuesday.

* * *

"O…kay this is… huh!" Tuesday exclaimed, so softly that only Paige could hear, as she stepped through the door and into the bar. Once Paige made it inside, Tuesday latched onto her arm for protection, the way she might have had they been walking through a dark alley in the bad part of town.

Tuesday wasn't stuck-up. She wasn't one of those privileged people who looked down on those with less money. She simply had no experience in an establishment like this, and it was a little unnerving. The hostess led them to an area in the back of the building, beyond area where the bar was. She took them to a table in a far corner and handed them each a menu. The menus consisted of white, laminated pages held together in dark brown cardboard covers, with their corners frayed from excessive use. Tuesday held hers carefully, grasping the corners between her thumbs and index fingers, the way a doctor might hold up a piece of clothing in an Ebola clinic, not wanting to be infected by it.

"So, what's good?"

"Huh? Uh, I don't know." Paige had been trying to figure out the correct angle to put her seat in, so that the mirror behind the bar would let her keep monitor who was coming in.

"Well, what did the review recommend?"

"The review?"

Tuesday dropped her menu and touched Paige's cheek. "Paige? Are you okay? You're acting really weird."

Paige shook her head quickly to get herself back in the moment. "Oh, sorry. Just a little distracted by work." Tuesday nodded in understanding. Paige took her hand. "Sorry. It's not really fair to you."

It wasn't fair to her at all, but not in the way that Paige was making it seem.

"No, I get it," Tuesday said, giving Paige's hand a squeeze. "I get why you wanted to try something new. Get out of the routine."

Paige's eyes almost bulged out of her head, but she caught herself in time. She realized that Tuesday was just talking about the restaurant, not the whole sexy-construction-worker costume idea. Paige hadn't brought that subject up yet. And this probably wasn't a good night for it. "Yeah," she said softly.

"So, what's good here? According to the review."

"Oh… uh… it... The review was more about, you know… the atmosphere. You know. The ambiance."

Tuesday couldn't help smiling as she cocked her head to the side. "Well, they nailed that," she said under her breath.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Paige said, reaching for Tuesday's arm. "We can go!"

"It's fine, Paige." Paige shot her a look like a guilty puppy. "Really." Tuesday picked up her menu again, this time not acting as though she were afraid of it. "It's an adventure!"


	3. Worlds Apart

Emily stared across the room at the petite blonde, trying to hide her contempt. She was getting sick to her stomach. She wanted to be anywhere but there.

She had known that it was a mistake when she agreed to fill in for Tom at this fancy party. She hadn't tended bar since Pepperdine – and those were definitely days that she wanted to forget. Dark, depressing, oppressive days.

Kind of like this evening.

There was no reason for Emily even to try to hide her contempt. She was essentially invisible to the rich and famous party-goers. She could have started throwing ice cubes at the little blonde demon, and nobody would've noticed her.

The blonde was pretty; perky; petite – all those "P" words. Emily could think of a couple more words for her, too. Less flattering words. Not that she had anything against the blonde. It was just the person whom the blonde was with: The woman from the limo at the construction site the other day.

Emily almost felt like crying. She had no business dreaming about being part of their world. She was _the help_. Nothing more. The woman from the limo had probably forgotten all about her. Just as Emily should have forgotten all about the woman. She only knew of one surefire way to do that. She stared at a bottle of Scotch on the portable bar behind her. It had worked so well, in her post-Pepperdine days. Too well. Drinking made her forget her problems, but it made her forget her responsibilities as well. And ehile she was on that road, she pretty much forgot who she was and what her goals were, too.

Emily took out her phone and took a quick glance at the time. It was barely 10:00. The party was in full steam; it could easily go on till well past midnight. The elite didn't have to worry about getting up and hustling at a side-job on Saturday morning. Emily would have to get through three hours or so. She hid her face in her hands for a couple of seconds and tried to cheer herself up - or at least cheer up her expression.

"Hey," Trent said, putting his concerned hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Emily nodded and gave him a chipper smile. "Just taking a quick break. A mental break," she clarified hurriedly, not wanting her boss to think that she was slacking off.

He nodded, his expression blank. "You've earned it," he assured her. He looked at his watch. "Listen, why don't you head home? We've got things covered here."

Emily opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "You've earned it," he repeated, his voice deeper and more forceful this time. "You really bailed me out tonight. We can handle things the rest of the way."

Emily hesitated for a moment before giving him a slight nod. "Okay," she said softly. She collected her sweater from the shelf under the makeshift bar and gave him a grateful hug before she left.

"Oh, Emily," Trent called, just as she'd taken a couple of steps away. She turned to see him reaching for the bottle of Scotch that she'd been eyeing earlier. He handed it out to her, despite her attempts to wave him off. He nodded once, with a sincere look, and repeated, "You've earned it."

Emily smiled gratefully, if somewhat sadly. She wouldn't be going home alone after all. She had a bottle of booze to take to bed with her.

* * *

"Dance with me!" Tuesday chirped, pulling Paige up and leading her to the dance floor. Paige followed willingly. Soon, they were on the dance floor, Tuesday's hand on her shoulder and her hand at Tuesday's waist. They were both smiling.

"See? Isn't this nice?" Tuesday asked, a hint of singing in her tone. Paige nodded. "Much better than those _dives_ you've been dragging me to."

Paige smiled but didn't reply.

The evening at Con Murphy's hadn't the last of Paige's highly improbable attempts to run into Emily by going to places where, she thought, someone like Emily might go. Tuesday played along at first, cutting Paige a little slack because she knew that Paige was in a rut. But at some point, enough was enough. Tuesday was the one who was getting bored. Or maybe fed up. She got the whole cliché of a rich girl pretending to be a regular girl, but she just wanted to live their young, carefree lives again.

"I'm just saying," Tuesday said, her eyes sparkling, "It's nice to get dressed up and go someplace special every once in a while."

It was all that Paige could do to keep from rolling her eyes. Instead, she played along. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Special."

Evidently, Paige's expression wasn't convincing enough.

Tuesday's mood shifted from chipper to sour without passing through any other moods along the way. She backed away from Paige, crossing her arms at her waist. "But you're still bored," she chided accusingly.

Paige reached for Tuesday's shoulders, but Tuesday eluded her. "No, I'm not bored," Paige lied. "Come on, don't be upset! Let's just enjoy this dance."

Tuesday stared silently at Paige for what felt like forever. Paige gamely held out her hands, hoping that they could just resume the dance and move on. Tuesday huffed out an exasperated breath and took a step back, letting her arms fall to her sides.

"Look, Paige," she said, her voice nearly cracking, "I'm trying hard. I really am." Tears were forming beneath her eyelids. "But you're not giving me any help." She paused, shaking her head. "You're not telling me what this is really all about, and until you're ready to do that, I don't see how I can help. I don't see how we can expect make things any better."

"I've _told_ you what this is about," Paige said, trying to sound patient. "I'm _bored_. That's it. It's as simple as that." Tuesday closed her eyes for a long time, trying not to get upset. "Look, I get that you don't understand that, because you…" Paige read the change of expression on Tuesday's face and knew that she had said the wrong thing.

"Because I what, Paige?"

"Because you… _we're_… Because…"

Tuesday took a deep breath, her chest, like her anger, rising high within her. She put her hands up, as if to calm herself down. "I'm just going to go," she said flatly.

She turned around and walked away. She wasn't sure whether she hoped that Paige would try to stop her or that Paige would let her go. She wasn't sure what she would have done, had Paige tried to stop her, but, in the end, it didn't matter.

It wasn't that Paige wanted her to go, necessarily. The truth was, Paige didn't know what she wanted, but perhaps that's the best time to start making changes.

* * *

"Knock knock!" Brad knocked on the foreman's trailer as he said the words, poking his head inside without waiting for an answer.

"Brad!" Emily said enthusiastically. "Come on in!"

"I come bearing coffee!" He set a large, Dunkin' Donuts cup and a stack of napkins on the table with a proud smile. "Just the way you like it!"

"Aww," Emily said appreciatively. She patted him on his big, beefy arm. "You take such good care of me!"

Brad shuffled in place, a shy grin covering his face. "So, uh… did you find anything else out about Miss Richie Rich?"

_I found out she's gay,_ Emily thought, but that was a small consolation prize. She sighed in frustration. It was embarrassing enough that she was on this impossible mission, but it was even worse that her friends knew about it. "No," she said drawing out the word. She picked up a list of the building's residents that she had requested from the building's property manager and held it up to make her point. "There are too many people on this list," she said sadly. _And none of them single_, she thought.

"Well, hang in there," Brad said, giving her a thumbs up as he made his way back to the door. "I've got faith!"

"Thanks." Emily let her head fall back against her chair. Brad stopped, staring at her with brotherly concern. "Oh, Brad," she whined, in an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability. "What am I even doing? Women like that don't go for women like me."

"Why not? I'm mean, she's a knockout, but she's not as hot as you!" Brad put his hands up. "No disrespect."

Emily waved off the comment. "That's not what I mean." She wasn't about to get into a discussion of their relative hotness. "I mean… We're from different worlds. She's..." Emily's gaze wandered off and her voice became animated. She gestured wildly with her hands. "... Chanel and… museum openings and… Bentleys and I'm…" Emily shrugged her shoulders sadly. "I'm a construction worker."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Brad protested. "_I'm_ a construction worker!" he said, touching his palms to his chest. He pointed at her and completed his thought. "You're the _foreman!_ You're not just some peon like us!_"_

Emily sighed helplessly. "I know, but… Women like that don't see any difference." She shrugged her shoulders. "Women like that don't see people like us at all."

"Aww," Brad replied, waving her off. "I've got faith! You'll get her! You'll see!" He backed out of the room, waving as he said it.

Emily couldn't help smiling. Brad was like a protective older brother. He had been one of the first who accepted her, when she started working with that crew. The others may have been quick to accept her authority, but Brad was the one who accepted her as one of the guys, off-work. He was as loyal as a Saint Bernard. And, unfortunately, he had about the same level of understanding of how the world worked as a Saint Bernard.

* * *

Tuesday would be all right. Paige was sure of that. She stared at her phone, clutching her purse against her chest, looking to see how much longer she'd have to wait for her Uber. She had stayed at the party for another hour or so, circulating between tables, telling people that Tuesday had gotten a headache and just wanted to get home, alone and rest. They would all find out the truth soon enough. No need ruining the party for the rest of her friends by making them feel sorry for her. But Paige hoped that, if she stayed long enough, it would give Tuesday a little time to cool down. With any luck, she would be asleep by the time Paige got home.

Tuesday wasn't the type to let anything get to her. She was carefree and uncomplicated. Everyone thought that she and Paige were exactly alike, because they had so much in common – their upbringing, their education, their socio-economic class. But anyone who looked closely enough would see that they weren't really that much alike at all, in the things that mattered. They may have come from the same world, but, in reality, they were worlds apart. It was inevitable, Paige convinced herself, that they would break up eventually. Paige thought of the saying, _"_opposites attract, but likes stay together."


	4. Girl Undercover

Emily took one last walk through the swimming facility before heading back to the locker room to give her team its pre-meet pep talk. She always felt more comfortable knowing where the emergency exits, the first aid kits, and the alarm boxes were in case anything happened. She also liked to stay on top of practical things, like where the timekeepers and officials sat. As she turned to head back to the locker room, she felt eyes on her and slowly, surreptitiously, took a look up into one of the far corners of the room to see what was going on. There was someone sitting in the shadows, obviously not wanting to be noticed. Emily thought it might have been a scout, since they often don't like to telegraph the fact that they've got their eyes on a swimmer, but scouts usually came clipboards and stopwatches. Of course, if this were a scout trying to fly under the radar, it would make sense that he didn't show up with a clipboard, or anything to give his game away.

Emily wanted to give the person the benefit of a doubt. Still, she'd had enough experience with stalkers to know that she needed to be on her guard. Still walking slowly, she made her way over to the security guard and struck up a conversation. She didn't mention anything about the shadowy figure in the corner and didn't do anything to draw attention to the area where the person was seated. She figured that someone who was there for legitimate reasons feel threatened by the fact that she had gone to talk to Security, but someone who was up to no good would probably find a way over to the nearest exit. It wasn't a guarantee, by any means, but Emily was willing to go with those odds.

Emily's first season as volunteer coach for the girls' swim team at the Cherry Hill Community Center was winding down. Volunteering was a way of giving back, but also a way to stay connected with the sport that she loved so much. And it was a diversion. As much as she loved her job and her crew, it was nice to be able to forget about them and escape to a world where the problems seemed much smaller and the victories much sweeter.

Emily took a quick look up at the scout-slash-stalker on her way to the locker room after she finished making small talk with Security. Apparently, the talk had had some effect: The visitor had shifted closer to the rest of the crowd and had taken down the hood on her hoodie. It was a female. Emily's eyebrows crinkled. The woman looked familiar. She did a double take and took another quick glance over at her, then smiled smugly and broke into a jog the rest of the way to the locker room.

* * *

Winston was very good. The Monday before, as he gave Paige her morning rundown, he mentioned the swimming championships that weekend in Cherry Hill.

"Oh, okay," Paige said without looking up from her phone. She wasn't too interested in his suggestion, but she was impressed that he remembered that she used to be a swimmer.

Winston smiled slyly. "Philadelphia Weekly had some great things to say about their new coach." He took a dramatic pause before he added, "A certain... Emily Fields."

That got Paige's attention. She looked up, bug-eyed in shock. She hadn't said a word to Winston about Emily for about a month, when she and Emily had their brief encounter in front of her building. Paige reached for the index card on which Winston had written all the details about the swim meet. "I'll… uh… I'll keep that in mind," she said, doing her best to play it cool.

Winston left it at that. There was no reason to gloat. He knew he'd hit it out of the park.

He was very good.

* * *

When Emily was coaching at a competition, she was hyper-focused on her team. There were, however, times when maintaining that laser focus was challenging, and this was one of them. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She didn't know how she was supposed to play it with the woman in the stands. She didn't know whether the woman would make a move or not. In the end, the woman sat in her place pretty much like a mummy, only moving one or two times, to applaud an outstanding performance.

Paige was fascinated by Emily's hair. She had been, since their first meeting. Since that day, she often wondered what Emily had going on under that hardhat. Even seeing Emily at the meet, it was still a bit of a mystery, as she had it tightly pulled up into a top bun. _Very professional,_ Paige couldn't help thinking. She couldn't help wondering whether Emily allowed a tendril or two to sneak out and dance against her cheek or the back of her neck as she moved. From her far-off vantage point in the bleachers, she couldn't really see. But Emily wasn't constantly wisping the hair away from her face. She was much too pulled together for that. At least, that was the mythology that Paige was building up around her.

After the meet, Emily huddled with her team, congratulating them and leading them in their post-match cheer before shuffling them off to the locker room. As they dashed off, she looked towards the stands, which the woman was descending. Emily strolled over there, holding her clipboard in both hands, braced against her waist. "Hey there," she said soberly.

The woman had apparently been counting on making a quick retreat and escaping unnoticed. She gasped in surprise at the sound of Emily's voice. "Oh, uh, hi," she said, unsmiling. "Great match. Congratulations."

Emily smiled, scoffing in disbelief. "That's how we're going to play it, huh?" The woman looked confused. Or like someone who was trying to look confused. "We're going to pretend that you just randomly decided to come out to a swimming meet in South Jersey?"

Paige chuckled slightly, shrugging her shoulder, playing innocent.

Emily shook her head. "Okay, then." She clapped her hand on the woman's shoulder with a fake smile. "Thank you for your support." She turned and walked away, shaking her head again as she went.

"Wait," Paige pleaded. Emily stopped and turned around. Paige jogged a couple of steps closer to her and extended her hand. "I'm… uh… My name is Paige McCullers." Emily hesitated a moment before shaking Paige's hand, nodding in acknowledgment.

"And, I take it you already know who I am."

Paige dipped her head. "I do," she said contritely. "And I'd really like to buy you a coffee or a drink sometime, Emily."

Emily scoffed through a smile. "You want to buy me a drink?"

"If that's not too forward."

Emily rolled her eyes and got to the point. "And will your girlfriend be joining us?"

Paige chuckled nervously. "My girlfriend?"

She was acting so guilty that Emily would have known that she was hiding something, even if she didn't already know the truth.

"Yeah, your girlfriend," Emily said flatly. "Short perky blonde, about this high?" Emily raised her hand to a little lower than shoulder height.

"Oh." Paige lowered her gaze. "Tuesday."

Emily was confused. Did Paige categorize women by the nights when she went out with them? But she'd seen the two of them on a Friday.

"How… uh… how do you know about her?" Paige and Tuesday may have been well-to-do, but they weren't the kind of rich celebrities who were always in the gossip columns.

"I think the real question is why you're acting as though you don't."

"She's not my girlfriend," Paige said defensively, putting up her hands.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Does _she_ know that? Because she was sure acting like your girlfriend that night at 30th Street."

"Wait, you were…" Emily's face dropped. It was just as she suspected. She was invisible to Paige and her wealthy friends. Paige didn't even know that she had been there, tending bar. "Well, then, you must have seen it when she broke up with me."

"She broke up with you?"

Paige nodded. "It was a huge scene."

"I… uh…" This time, it was Emily who looked away. "I had to leave early. I must have missed it."

There was a loud clack as a bank of lights went out above them. In response, they spoke at the same time.

"Look, I'm…"  
"I need to…"

"You first," Paige said.

"I need to get back to my team."

Paige nodded. "I'd really like to see you. I know I haven't made a great first impression – or second impression, for that matter."

Or third, Emily thought. But who was counting? The fact was, Paige had tracked her down. She may not have noticed her at the party, but she definitely noticed her that day in front of her building. "Meet me outside," she said. "About ten minutes."

Paige smiled. "Okay," she said softly.

* * *

Paige tapped her foot nervously from side to side as she by the door and waited for Emily to return. She didn't know what to do in the meantime. Usually, she killed time by catching up with e-mail and texts, but she didn't want to be on her phone when Emily came out. Or, maybe she did. She wasn't sure. If she were on her phone, it would look a lot more casual than standing sentry there, waiting for Emily to emerge. Or maybe it would look too casual, to the point of being detached. Paige blew out a deep breath. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, but just to check the time, and went back to tapping her foot.

She smiled with a bit of forced restraint when she caught sight of Emily on the other side of the large glass doors. She quickly reached for the door and held it open for Emily, who smiled back at her, glancing quickly behind her as she passed through the door. It was almost as if she knew that Paige wasn't just holding the door to be polite, but to be in position so that she could check her out from behind.

Emily, Paige noted, had wrapped the top of her warm up suit around her waist. _Well played._ Still, there was no hiding those legs, even in the loose polyester fabric of her warm up slacks. And there was no hiding the way the jacket wiggled as Emily walked a pace or two ahead of Paige. Paige took a couple of quick steps to catch up to Emily's side.

Emily was the first to break the silence. "There's a Starbucks a couple of blocks from here," she said curtly, lifting her chin in that direction. She wanted some control of the situation. She didn't want Paige to make some power play and try to impress her with her expensive car, driving off to some expensive restaurant. "You like coffee?" Paige nodded wordlessly. "We can leave our cars here."

Paige thrust her hands in her pockets as they started off towards the restaurant. The walk was silent and awkward, and Paige was wracking her brain for something to say. She decided to start at the beginning.

"So, uh… how long have you been…" Paige wanted to phrase it in a way that didn't come off as condescending. "… in construction?"

Emily half-smiled. "So that's what this is about?"

Paige returned an uneasy smile. "I suppose," she said tentatively. There was so much encapsulated in that "this" – her obsession with the face in the construction hat, her obsession with middle-class hangouts, her break up with Tuesday. But all of that would have to wait. "I never got to thank you properly."

"You don't need to thank me, Paige." Emily said, a little disgusted. "I would've done it for anyone."

Paige tightened her lips. She was a bit disappointed, but at least Emily appeared to remember her from that first meeting. But Paige wasn't the type to shy down from what she wanted. "I had kind of hoped," she said without looking at Emily, "that I was special."

Emily's heart started beating faster, but she wasn't going to give anything away. Not yet, at least. "Well," she replied, holding open the door. Paige hesitated, trying to position herself so that she could hold the door for Emily, but Emily gestured with her head, and Paige relented. She didn't want to make any more missteps before she got the chance to make her case. "Not just anyone would track me down and stalk me like that, so I guess _that_ makes you special."

Paige dipped her head. "I'll take it," she said softly.

Paige started towards the counter, looking up at the menu as she did. Emily pointed out a booth. "Go grab a seat," she commanded. "I'll take care of the drinks."

Paige nodded slightly and did as she was told. Emily hadn't told her to buzz off, at least. At least she'd gotten her foot in the door.


	5. Coffee Date

Emily's mind was jumping from thought to thought as she waited in line. This was an interesting turn of events. Paige had been looking for her for as long as she had been looking for Paige. But they were from two different worlds; she couldn't past that night at the party that put their different stations in life in such stark relief. There was no denying that she was attracted to Paige. And Paige was incredibly cute and vulnerable, considering what a powerful woman she had to be. Emily wasn't so impressed by Paige's high income or her high-powered lifestyle. But the fact that she was acting real – not trying to impress her by who she was and what she had – counted for something. But she did seem to have a little problem with being honest, though.

Paige nervously played with her fingers, skimming them across the table and tapping them idly against it. She was on the last lap of her race. She still tended to look at things in terms of swimming. And, in this race, she hadn't been blown out. She still had a shot, but she couldn't afford to make any mistakes. She took off her hoodie, taking a quick check of her armpits and her bra line, to make sure she wasn't visibly sweaty. Looking back, it had been a stupid move - using a hoodie to try to disguise herself. She thought that taking it off was a good symbolic move, at least; showing that she had nothing to hide. She had a plain white t-shirt underneath it; nothing pretentious. She started to fold up the hoodie, but she caught sight of Emily returning and quickly balled the hoodie up, throwing it into the corner on her side of the booth. She started to stand and offer Emily a hand, but Emily got there too quickly.

"I figured, if you like Starbucks, you like cappuccino."

"Thank you," Paige said genuinely.

It wasn't about the coffee.

"So," Emily said.

"So," Paige echoed. Emily took a sip of her coffee, so Paige took the lead. "Your team is very disciplined."

Emily hid her smirking lips behind her cardboard cup, holding it with both hands up to her face. When she set the cup down, one hand still holding onto it and the other palm-down on the table, her expression was blank. "But?" she said expectantly.

"But?" It took Paige a second to realize what Emily was implying. "Oh, no 'But.' I was actually being sincere."

Emily rolled her eyes slightly and lifted her cup to her lips again. She wasn't really drinking her coffee that fast. She just needed something to do with her hands – and something to keep her from staring into Paige's eyes and those smiling, pale-pink lips. "But we're crap on the turns and we don't get enough push off of the walls," Emily said, supplying her own "but."

Paige smiled, looking down sheepishly. "If your #2 girl in the relay tightened up her body out of the turns, she'd be halfway across the pool before her first breath."

"Tell me about it," Emily lamented, her tone letting Paige know that she'd had that conversation with Rochelle more than once. Emily raised her cup to Paige. "You were obviously quite a swimmer in your day?"

Paige smiled deferentially, looking away. "I held my own," she muttered, shrugging her shoulders slightly. "You… You must be incredible, in the pool."

Emily chuckled to herself. "What makes you say that?" She knew that she had the genetics – long arms, slender frame – and she still kept in shape. But it didn't hurt to hear it.

"Well, you've got a keen eye. The best swimmers make the best coaches."

Emily shook her head. "I always heard it was the bench-warmers. They're the ones who learn to see everything that happens in the pool and get to hear all the coaches' wisdom."

"Yeah, I've heard that, too," Paige said. "I always thought it was bull…" She strung out the "L" as a way to avoid saying the word that she had started without thinking. "I mean, you have to know the water, know the competition, know the adrenaline, in order to be a good coach. I don't think you can get that sitting on the bench."

Emily raised her cup to her lips again. "Well, I guess I got the best of both worlds," she said, both hands circling her cup as she set it down. "I got to compete for three years, before I got hurt and got to spend the rest of high school learning from my coaches."

"Oh," Paige said softly, apologetically. "What happened?"

Emily chuckled and looked off to the side. She didn't know where to begin, without telling her whole life story. "My hometown was a nasty place. We had some serious stalkers and, uh…" She shrugged her shoulders casually. "I blew out my shoulder pushing a friend out of the way of a car. It's not as if I even had a sports-related injury." Emily was still a little bitter at everything that was taken away from her.

"Wow," Paige said barely audibly. "That's… that sucks."

"Yeah." Emily took another sip. "But, what are you going to do?"

Emily scoffed at something and stood abruptly. "They always keep it so cold in these places," she complained, unwrapping the warm up jacket that had been around her waist and draping it over her shoulders, without putting her arms in the armholes. Paige half-stood and reached across the table as if to help her get into the jacket. Emily smiled at the attempt. It was a nice gesture, but Paige couldn't have reached her across the table in the first place, and, anyway, she wasn't actually putting the jacket on.

By taking her jacket from around her waist, Emily was lowering her shield, though neither of them realized it at the time.

Paige bit her lip, internally bemoaning how poor her first-date skills had become. It didn't help that she was still mentally whipping herself for her shady behavior. As if picking up on that, Emily decided to put a joking spin on it. "Those are some first-class stalking skills you've got there, by the way" she asserted, playfully pounding her hand on Paige's forearm in rhythm with the last few words. "The dark hoodie? Nice touch!"

"Yeah, I'm so sorry," Paige said. "If I had had any idea..."

Emily shrugged. "How could you?" She leaned back in her chair, smiling wryly. "Besides, I could tell you weren't a threat." Paige tilted her head, wondering what about her dark, hoodied look made her appear non-threatening. "If you had been, you would've scrammed when you saw me talking to Security, so…"

"Wow." Paige raised and lowered her eyebrows as she said it. "You're good at this."

Emily gave her a half-smile. "I've learned."

Paige looked down at the table in silence for a second or two. She figured she hadn't totally blown it, since Emily was still there, drinking coffee with her. But she needed to say something. "Actually," she stuttered, "It was my assistant, Winston." She looked up and off to the side. "He's the one with the stalking skills," she clarified. "My stalking skills are pretty weak, to be honest."

Paige felt that she needed to be completely honest, so she told Emily about going to Con Murphy's and all of the other venues she'd dropped in on, hoping she would find Emily there. "It's stupid, I know," she concluded, staring at her coffee cup which she was holding for dear life.

Emily raised her eyebrows. "No more stupid than cruising Broad Street on theater night." Paige tilted her head, confused. "In one of my other lives," Emily admitted, "I drive an Uber." Paige had opened up to her. She decided she could risk a little vulnerability. "I… uh… thought, somehow, you might catch me when you needed a ride home from "Hamilton," or something."

Paige had to hide her surprise – and excitement – that Emily had actually made an effort to find her. She felt more confident as she continued telling her story. She wanted Emily to know that she was telling the truth about being single. "Well, in my case, the stalking is what ended my relationship," Paige said somberly. "You have to understand, I had been bored for a long while. I didn't just see you that morning and decide to dump my girlfriend. I'm not like that." Emily nodded respectfully. Part of her would have found it romantic, had Paige been willing to toss someone aside after just a glimpse of her, but, mostly, she was glad that Paige was more loyal than that.

"Something just didn't seem right in my life," Paige continued. "And, seeing you that morning, you were just like… I don't know – a beacon of light or an angel, or something. I know it sounds strange, but…" Paige shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I just had to meet you."

It was obvious that Paige was getting uncomfortable. Emily understood why. It's not easy to bare one's soul like that. It meant a lot that she was willing to do so. Emily decided to shift the focus and give Paige a chance to recover. "So… Winston…"

"Winston," Paige smiled wistfully, looking vaguely in Emily's direction. "That day at the construction site, I gave him your last name. From… you know, from your hardhat. Told him you were with the company that was doing construction on my building and that you saved my life. He was going to send you flowers or chocolates, but I thought that might be a little creepy."

"Yeah," Emily said sarcastically. "What girl would want candy or chocolates? It's much less creepy to show up in Cherry Hill at a high school swim meet."

"Well, I was in a relationship back then," Paige said guiltily.

"No, I get it," Emily assured her, squeezing her wrist. Paige really wanted to look down at Emily's hand there, to see whether there were actual shocks of electricity coming out of it. It took everything in her to keep her eyes from shifting. She pressed on.

"Yeah." She raised her cup to her lips. This time, it was Emily who had a free chance to stare, as Paige struggled to keep her cool. "So, I never said another word to him about you after that, and, then, he was giving my weekly rundown, and he just casually mentioned that you'd be here coaching today, so, I figured…"

* * *

Paige and Emily's cups had long-since been drained, and yet they hadn't moved from the booth. Neither of them wanted to. The conversation was free-flowing and natural, and they were enjoying each other's company.

Emily was rather liberal with physical contact, often reinforcing her points by casually grabbing Paige's hand or by sliding her finger on Paige's forearm – little things like that. It wasn't flirty, necessarily. Paige could tell that it was just the way that Emily was. Still, it was hard for her not to get excited every time she felt the touch of Emily's skin.

When Emily leaned out of her chair and reached for something in her purse, Paige took it to mean that it was time to wrap things up. "We should, uh… We should do this again, sometime," she said, looking and feeling upbeat.

Emily stood up, a little disappointed that their afternoon together was coming to an end. She reached up with both arms and stretched, causing her jacket to fall from the shoulders to the floor. Paige's eyes reacted to the movement of the jacket as it fell, but as they turned to look, they stalled for the briefest moment at the glimpse of Emily's navel, where her t-shirt had ridden up. Paige had been low-key wondering whether Emily's skin was that same soft, golden tone all over, and she was delighted at the confirmation.

Paige knew, of course, that Emily's skin would be the same color all over. It was just that she had a low-key sort of fascination for women with naturally darker skin, going back to her first girlfriend, Shana, back in high school. Perhaps it was because she, herself, was so fair skinned, that she enjoyed a contrast. Perhaps that was one of the other reasons that Tuesday had never quite measured up.

Emily, a little lightheaded from the stretch, stumbled a step and a half backwards and Paige, who had moved over to pick up her jacket when it fell, reached an arm to her back to steady her. "Are you okay?" she asked, the concern heavy on her face.

"Whoo!" Emily said through a smile. "I'm fine," she assured Paige. "I just stood up too fast."

"Couldn't wait for it to be over?" Paige asked, half-smiling and only half-joking.

Emily put a hand to Paige's cheek. She didn't anything in response to Paige's question. She didn't need to.

Paige cleared her throat nervously, suddenly realizing that her hand was still on Emily's back. She tried to be smooth about it and use her arm to usher Emily towards the door, using the act of opening the door as an easy segue into moving her hand away.

Emily was disappointed that Paige didn't put her hand back after she held the door. It was too soon for that, of course. She knew. Still, she was disappointed. She was grinning on the inside, thinking about how Paige had literally had her back when she stumbled; thinking that Paige was the kind of woman who could sweep a girl off of her feet in the literal sense. Emily was strong. She held her own with her crew at the construction site. That's kind of what made it enchanting to think that this sophisticated, high-class woman who had probably never lifted so much as a bag of groceries in her life would be the one to lift her off of her feet and carry her off into the sunset.

Emily wasn't saying anything while her mind was taking its flights of fancy. The silence made Paige nervous. When it came to relationships, she always felt that she was just one step away from blowing it. She was struggling to figure out what to say or do when Emily finally spoke. "Well," she said with the slightest of pouts, "this is me."

Paige looked up to see that they were standing in front of what must have been Emily's car. Paige dipped her head.

"So?" Emily said half-playfully. She moved her head in a little figure eight, as if prompting Paige to take up the conversation. Paige looked up, uncertain what to do next. "You said something about doing this again sometime?"

Paige's face brightened. "Absolutely!" she said, in a sudden surge of confidence. "Could I get your number?"

Emily rolled her eyes and laughed. "You mean, you didn't get it from Winston?"

Paige snorted. "Yeah, right. He probably has it." Paige's voice and enthusiasm dipped with that admission. There was something about actually getting Emily's number from her; that Emily was willing to give it, not that Paige could track it down.

For a torturous second, Emily feared she had overplayed her hand. She didn't want Paige to get away from her without getting her number. But at least Paige knew where she worked. If worse came to worst, she thought, Paige could always have her – _paged._ Had she not been so preoccupied with worrying that she'd blown it, she might have laughed at that play on words.

Just before Emily conceded defeat and agreed that Paige could get her number from Winston, Paige spoke up. "On the other hand," she said, in that sort of shy mumble that Emily was already finding irresistibly endearing, "he'd be really impressed if I actually got your number by myself."

Emily, grinning from ear to ear, dramatically held out her hand. "Well, we wouldn't want to disappoint good old Winston!" Paige handed over her phone.

* * *

Emily jumped in her bed, startled and nervous. She had been secretly hoping that Paige would call her that night, all the while trying to convince herself that she shouldn't expect a call from Paige and that it wouldn't be a bad sign if Paige didn't call. So, when her phone actually did ring, it flew from her hands, and she had to juggle it a couple of times. She hoped Paige wouldn't think that she was trying to play it cool by not picking up right away.

The call was from and unknown phone number, an area code that she didn't recognize. Emily didn't ordinarily take calls from unknown numbers, but she didn't want to risk missing a call from Paige.

"Hello?" She hoped her nervous voice sounded at least somewhat sexy.

"Hi… Emily?" Paige cursed herself for asking to confirm, sort of thinking it would have sounded better if she pretended to recognize Emily's voice.

"Paige!" Emily leaned up on her elbow.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Good. How… Are you good?"

"Yeah." Paige's voice was a low rasp, and Emily enjoyed just letting it vibrate next to her ear. "Just wanted to make sure you, you know, got home okay."

"Mm hmm," Emily confirmed enthusiastically. "Yeah," she added. "I got home fine."

"Good," Paige said. "Good." _Why was this so awkward?_ She cleared her throat. "Okay, well… I'm not going to keep you on the phone. I just wanted to…" Paige chuckled nervously, realizing she had already said why she'd called. "You know," she said with a shrug.

"Okay," Emily said in a whisper.

"Okay, well… Have a good night."

"You, too."

* * *

Paige let out a deep breath, holding her phone against her chin. She should have asked Emily out. She had planned to ask Emily out. She sucked at this. It had been so long since she did the phone call after the first date. She relaxed her shoulders. She couldn't be too disappointed. The day had gone much better than she had hoped in her wildest dreams. That morning, she had only hoped to get a glimpse of Emily and, maybe, see what her deal was. But they ended up having coffee together and really connecting. Paige was pretty sure they'd connected. She may have dropped the ball on the phone call, but she'd have plenty of chances to make up for that.

Emily bit her lip and spun around, holding her phone with both hands near her heart. She didn't realize that she'd gotten up out of bed during her short conversation with Paige, and she didn't realize that she was smiling. _Paige had called._ But that's what rich, well-bred people do, she told herself. It's the _correct_ thing. Her smile dimmed a little. "What am I doing?" she said out loud. They had had a perfect time at Starbucks, and they had really connected. And Paige had called. She hadn't asked her out again, but maybe she was just taking things slowly. "Stay positive," she reminded herself. After all, a week earlier, she had convinced herself that Paige would never even notice her, but it turned out that Paige had noticed her from the very start. Emily sighed deeply and fell, sitting, onto her bed, excited about what the future had in store.


	6. Sunday in the Park

Emily found a text from Paige on her phone when she woke up the next morning, saying she hoped it wasn't too creepy to text so soon, but the Chinese Lantern Festival was going on in Franklin Square Park, and she thought it might be fun to walk around.

"Sounds fun!" Emily texted back. "What time?"

Emily wasn't sure when she would hear back, because Paige's first text was about an hour old. It didn't take Paige long to reply, though. "6:00? We can grab something to eat and wait for it to get a little darker?"

Emily texted a thumbs up. "I'll see you then."

"Can I pick you up?"

"I'll meet you there."

"K." Paige was a little disappointed, but she concentrated on the positive.

Emily didn't want to give her power away too quickly. She was asserting her independence; she didn't need to have Paige chauffeuring her around.

Paige was on pins and needles all day, waiting for 6:00. She kicked herself for choosing that time. The wait was killing her. She ended up showing up at the park about a half hour early, sitting on a bench with her hands folded in her lap like a schoolgirl on her best behavior.

She stood to her feet and smoothed out her lap when she saw Emily heading up the sidewalk in slow, confident steps. Emily was wearing a short black dress and black sandals that had gold accents on the straps. The first thing Paige noticed was her legs, smooth and powerful; her thighs tensing with every stride. The second thing was the smile, which spread contagiously to Paige's face.

"Hey," Emily called out, still a few strides away from Paige. Paige had on a pair of faded Levi's skinny jeans with a plain white t-shirt. Her black pumps had just enough of a heel to give her a slight height advantage, which suited Emily fine. She had her hair down; something Emily had never seen before. It fell in waves just past her shoulder, with violet highlights in the front. Emily imagined that the highlights were why she wore a bun in professional situations, where Paige needed them out of sight.

"Hey," Paige parroted, trying not to appear too eager.

"I parked on the street a couple of blocks over. I hope that's okay."

"Yeah," Paige said reassuringly, "I don't even think the parking authority works on Sunday."

"Right." Emily came to a stop face to face with Paige, a little less than an arm's length away. "Where did you park?"

"Oh, I… I actually took an Uber today." Paige said it as if she had reason to feel guilty about it.

"Really? I thought you were going to give me a ride?"

"Oh, yeah." Paige's head was nodding quickly. "I mean, call me old-fashioned, but I think the person who asks the other person on the date should be the one to pick her up."

"In an Uber?"

Paige chuckled. "I was going to… I mean, I would've gotten a car to pick you up, but it seemed like a waste for one person."

It seemed like a waste for two people, to Emily. She smiled wryly. "You don't have to try to impress me." Her tone was pleasant.

"Oh, no – I wasn't. I wouldn't." Paige was a little uncomfortable with the income gap between them. The last thing she wanted was to come off as condescending or patronizing. "I was just…" She took a calming breath. "Well, I don't keep a car in the city, and I just…"

"You just wanted to see where I live?"

"No_" Paige exaggerated the word. She knew that she was being teased.

"I know," Emily said with a big smile, touching Paige's shoulder to confirm that she was only kidding around.

"Okay," Paige said softly. Changing the subject, she reached into her purse and pulled out the tickets that she had printed out for the festival. "Shall we head in? I think there are food stands inside."

"Let's go!"

Paige led the way to the line of people who were waiting to get their tickets scanned. She smiled at Emily, and Emily smiled back. "So, by the way, where _do_ you live?"

Emily laughed lightly, her head cocking backwards a little. "South Philly," she said. "In a little row house."

"A fixer-upper?" Paige joked.

"Actually, yes. It was a bargain. Plus, I like having some projects to work on. It's kind of nice to be able to take a place, like a blank canvas, and build it into the kind of house you want, you know?"

"I'm sure it's amazing." _Just like you._ Paige couldn't help the intense way that she was staring into Emily's eyes.

_I'm sure you'll get to see it sometime._

Fortunately, the impatient call of "Next!" by the ticket-scanner pulled them out of that intense moment.

"So, uh… where do you live?" Emily asked as they moved past the ticket booth and into the festival. She was trying to make a joke, to get them back to a level more appropriate for a first date. "Rittenhouse?"

"Yeah, Rittenhouse," Paige said with a grin. "It's great -16th floor, great view of the park, plenty of space…" She stopped abruptly and cleared her throat. She really loved her apartment, but she didn't want it to sound as if she was boasting.

"How long have you lived there?"

Paige looked off to the side as she thought it over. "About six years? Yeah, going on six years. Since I moved to Philadelphia." She was grateful for the question. It helped her relax, to know that Emily wasn't intimidated or put off by her talking about how great the apartment was.

They found a food booth that had interesting creations on skewers. They looked a bit eccentric but turned out to be pretty tasty. And they found some wine, as well, served in transparent plastic wine glasses. After a quick break on a bench, balancing their food on their laps as they ate and talked, they set off through the park and the exhibits again.

Emily's hair was starting to feel heavy, so she quickly undid it, moving the scrunchie from her top bun onto her wrist. Her hands swung at her sides when she finished, and her right hand briefly collided with Paige's left. Paige panicked and jerked her hand away, trying to cover for the exaggerated move by scratching her cheek.

Emily chuckled. "It's okay," she said, giving Paige a knowing look. Paige looked confused. "You can hold my hand, if you want. You don't have to try to be sneaky about it."

Paige's mouth opened wide. She was about to protest that she wasn't trying to grab Emily's hand, but she realized that she really did want to. She gave a slight shrug and reached for it.

Emily looked off to the side and smirked. That move worked every time.

The night sailed by way too quickly. It felt as if only a couple of minutes had passed before the shops started packing up and the workers who were manning the displays started getting impatient to leave. Paige took a deep sigh, resigned to the fact that their night was coming to an end.

"Do you need a ride?" Emily asked, gesturing with her head towards her car.

"I was going to get an Uber." Paige smiled. "Although, I guess – you _are_ an Uber."

"Haha," Emily mocked. "I'll you a freebie, just this once."

"Well, I never could pass up a good deal!"

Outside of Paige's apartment building, they still didn't feel like saying goodnight, so they just sat in the car talking, even though they both had to get up early on Monday morning. Eventually, Emily turned the engine off, but they kept on talking.

The sad reality hit Paige first. "Well," she said, slapping her hands against her thighs, "I guess I should let you get going."

Emily sighed with a sad smile. "Yeah, I guess so."

They sat silently for about another minute.

"I'd… um… I'd invite you up, but…"

"Maid's day off?" Emily offered

"No!" Paige said firmly. She was annoyed at the question, not at Emily. "People always assume that I have everything done for me." She was staring out of the window to hide her expression. "But I was raised to work hard. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty."

Having a maid was more Tuesday's thing than Paige's. Paige always felt guilty about having someone come in and clean up after them.

Emily rubbed Paige's shoulder apologetically. "I was just kidding," she said sincerely.

"I know," Paige admitted. She finally turned to look Emily in the eye. "It's just… I get that all the time."

"Oh, believe me, I understand." Emily chuckled lightly. "I mean, people see you in a building like this and just assume you have a made. And they see me in my hardhat, and just assume I'm a lesbian!"

Paige choked a bit on a breath, and her jaw dropped. "I… but… you… I mean…" Paige raised her palms and shook her head. "You know what? I don't even care what you are, but you _are_ into women, right?"

Emily laughed at the obviousness of the answer. "Of course I'm into women, silly! Why do you think I'm here?"

"Okay." Paige nodded. "I just wanted to make sure I've got a shot."

Emily took Paige's hand in both of hers. Her voice got soft and serious. "You've got an excellent shot." She leaned over and kissed Paige's cheek. Paige got shy all of a sudden, smiling as if she'd never been kissed before.

Emily stroked her hand through Paige's hair. "I love your hair."

"Do you?"

Emily nodded, moving her hand to Paige's cheek underneath her hair. "I've never seen you wear it down before."

"Yeah?" Paige was a little distracted by the warmth of Emily's palm against her skin.

"Is that your weekend look?"

Paige picked at the hair on the other side of her face idly. "I wear it down at work, sometimes."

"Even with the highlights?" Emily pulled out a strand as she made the point.

Paige nodded. "As long as we don't have a client in, the firm doesn't get too fussy about those things."

Emily nodded with a knowing smile. It wasn't too different from her experience on construction sites. She didn't have to fret too much about how she acted except when the customer was on-site. She stroked Paige's cheek with her thumb. Their faces were close, and Emily just kept smiling, as if daring Paige to make a move. Paige cupped Emily's cheek and pulled her closer to capture her lips.

They took their time, as they had with everything else that night. Their faces danced in perfect synchronization, the leather in the seatbacks squeaking as they repositioned themselves to keep the kiss going. They both moaned slightly, when it came to its inevitable end.

"I'll call you to make sure you to make sure you get home okay."

Emily was going to tell her that it wasn't necessary, but she didn't, just smiling instead, happy that she would get to hear Paige's voice again before the night was over.

Paige opened the door and started to get out of the car when she turned back towards Emily. "Oh, Em?" She was about to ask whether it was okay to call her that, but the smile on Emily's face, bigger than Paige had ever seen, gave her the answer. Paige smiled back, but her tone was serious. "I… just wanted you to know. If I had invited you up… Well, this was all that would have happened."

Emily nodded, still smiling. "I know."

"I don't want to rush things."

"I know."

Paige nodded once. "Okay."

"Good night."

"Good night," Paige whispered. "I'll call you."

* * *

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You made it home?"

"Yeah, I'm home."

"Okay. You didn't get caught in traffic?"

Emily laughed pleasantly. "No. Surprisingly, not a lot of traffic after midnight on a Sunday night. Well, technically, a Monday morning, I guess."

"Yeah," Paige said, a little guiltily. "I should let you get to bed, shouldn't I?"

"I guess," Emily said sadly.

"Hey, Paige?" Emily said quickly, before Paige could say good-bye.

"Yeah?"

"When you saw me at the construction site, did you assume I was gay?"

Paige laughed, starting to get used to the way Emily liked to tease her. "I just thought you were amazing," she said softly.

Emily smiled, biting her lip. "I thought you were amazing, too."


	7. Building Together

Paige walked back and forth in her foyer, uncharacteristically nervous, as she waited for her car on Monday morning. She really wanted to stop by the construction site to see Emily before she went off to work, but she wasn't sure that it was a good idea. It was a construction site: Safety was an issue. They probably didn't like surprises. And Paige wasn't even sure that she'd be able to get close enough to see Emily, without a hardhat. With a sigh, she put her hair up. She'd had it down, as if to prove to Emily that she actually _could_ go to work like that, but, since she wasn't going to get to see Emily anyway, she went ahead and styled it for work, instead of waiting until she got into her car.

"Hey, Brad!" Emily was trying not to give anything away by smiling too eagerly. "Cover for me. I'm going to take a quick ten."

Emily walked out of the walled-off construction area and, once she was out of sight of her crew, walked so fast that she was almost jogging to get to the carport in front of Paige's building. She got there just as Paige's car was pulling up, and she managed to slip in behind her unnoticed.

"Ms. McCullers," she said as Paige reached for the door. She was trying to make her voice sound like a doorman's, deep and formal.

Paige turned around and her jaw dropped. "Emily!"

They exchanged an awkward hug. They both would rather have kissed, but neither wanted to take a chance, not sure how openly "out" the other was. Instead, they did their best to make it look like two old friends greeting each other.

As they separated, instead of pulling her arm away, Paige swept it across Emily's side, giving a little squeeze before she let go. Emily, caught off guard, flinched quickly to her side, letting out a giggle that sounded like the Pillsbury Doughboy.

"I wasn't expecting to see you this morning." Paige's bright eyes showed how pleasant the surprise was.

"Yeah, well." Emily was smiling, but she was trying her to seem casual. "I just took a quick break, to say hi."

"Mmm – I'm so glad you did."

Emily chuckled. She hadn't planned anything beyond hello, and their stares were starting to get awkward. "Well, anyway. I'd better let you get to work."

Paige pouted. "I guess." Perking up, she squeezed Emily's wrist. "I'm _so_ glad you stopped by," she said again. "This is the best start to my morning!"

"Okay." Emily's smile turned shy. "Well, have a great day!"

"You, too!" As Emily started to walk away, Paige yelled behind her, "I'll call you!"

Emily took quick steps to get to the corner, but she turned around for one last glimpse at Paige's car before it drove off. Paige was standing there, with the door open, her eyes still glued on Emily. Emily raised her hand to half-mast and waved shyly. Paige waved back and made the "I'll call you" gesture, mouthing the words.

Emily spent much of the morning wondering whether Paige was going to call while she was at work or wait until the evening. Every chance she got, while she was reviewing plans and budgets in her trailer, she took a look at her phone and then flipped it over impatiently, hoping for some kind of news. It was kind of torture, but, still, Emily loved it. She loved that phase of a new relationship – the butterflies in the stomach, the shortness of breath, the smiling for now apparent reason as she her mind flashed back to the things they had said and done in their brief time together.

At around lunch time, Paige texted: She wasn't sure that it was safe to call a construction site during working hours; she was just checking in, and she'd call her that night. Emily smiled and bit her lip, not because of what Paige had sent, but because of what she was about to send back. It was a simple, "I'm good; hope you're having a good day, too" message. What had her biting her lip was the little "X" that she added at the end. She felt her finger trembling as she mustered up the courage to press it against the "Send" button.

When Tuesday morning rolled around, Paige found herself hoping that Emily would show up to say hello, but, still, she was surprised when Emily actually did show up. Her heart leapt a little at the sight of her. Emily's visits became their morning ritual, just as Paige's nightly calls had become their evening ritual. And the visits were just about as brief as the evening check-in calls; just a quick, awkward hug, and Paige's promise that she would call later.

Friday morning went down just like all the others, with the awkward hug, and Emily turning away as Paige opened the door. This time, though, Paige mixed things up, grabbing Emily by the arm and pulling her inside the car with her. Emily was a little caught off guard, as was Paige's driver, Allen, in the front seat. He quickly pushed the button to raise the privacy screen between the front and the back seat.

"Paige!" Emily protested urgently, "I'm going to get the car all dirty with construction dust!"

"Don't worry about it," Paige said, on her way in for a kiss. Even though it wasn't their first kiss, since Emily wasn't expecting it, she reacted as if it was. She got a little lost in the kiss, so what Paige expected to be a quick kiss good-bye turned into a long, lingering affair. Eventually, Paige reluctantly pulled away, but Emily was still frozen in place, her lips puckered as if they were still kissing.

"I guess you've got to get to work."

It took Emily a half-second to realize that Paige had said something. "Huh?" Her face scrunched up, in the annoyed expression that she used to give her roommate in college, whenever she nudged her awake after she slept through her alarm. When Emily finally came to her senses, she was embarrassed – both for her cranky response and for how much the kiss had affected her.

"Oh, yeah, I…" She giggled nervously, backing out of the car the way she used to back out of someone's dorm room in college after a one-night stand. As she backed away, trying to tuck her hair back into her hardhat, she bumped it against the top of the doorway and sent it rolling down the street.

"Oh, my… Here, let me…"

Emily waved Paige off. She nervously kicked the hat away a couple of times as she chased after it, but finally scooped it up, not even bothering to look back for Paige's "I'll call you" gesture. Once she rounded the corner, she leaned back against the building, putting her hand on her heart, waiting for it to stabilize. She took a deep breath, hoping for one final taste of Paige's scent, but the scent was gone. The moment and the memory were still with her.

Paige pulled the door closed and lowered the privacy screen. "All set?" Allen asked, looking at Paige in the rear view mirror. She nodded shyly, and they set off.

* * *

Paige couldn't stop smiling. She couldn't concentrate on anything except the kiss she and Emily had just shared. She had about 20 minutes to pull it together before she got to the office. She secretly hoped that they would get stuck in traffic.

She shouldn't have done it, she told herself. She didn't regret it, but she could have waited. She was going out with Emily that evening, and there would certainly be some kissing after that. She should've waited. But she couldn't stop smiling, thinking about the kiss.

Paige wasn't used to being so distracted and unfocused at work. Fortunately, it was a Friday, and not much came across her desk on Fridays. When Winston asked whether she'd had wine with breakfast, it only made her cheeks become more flushed.

Winston knew that it wasn't wine. He knew exactly what it was. He'd picked up on the change in Paige's demeanor ever since she showed up at the office the Monday after the swim meet with Emily.

* * *

Paige thanked her Uber driver and stepped out of the car. She tugged at the hem of her dress before she walked up to Emily's door. She had considered giving Uber an address a block or two away from Emily's house, to make it look as if she had walked to Emily's house. She felt a little guilty taking an Uber to see Emily, when Emily herself had to drive an Uber.

Paige wasn't familiar with the neighborhood, but it looked like a typical block in one of Philadelphia's older neighborhoods. It was the kind of street that neighbors strung lights across, from one side of the sidewalk to the other, for Christmas or for summer block parties. Emily's house seemed to be in good shape; solid, though older. It was a work in progress, but Paige liked what Emily had done with it.

Paige was about to ring the doorbell when it spoke to her. "Come on in!" she heard, in Emily's voice. She looked around to see where it was coming from before she realized that it was one of those Ring doorbells she'd heard about but never actually seen in real life. She heard a magnetic whirring sound as the door unlocked. She let herself inside.

"That's some fancy doorbell!" she said in a loud voice, not knowing which way to direct it, because she didn't know where Emily was.

"Yeah, sorry," she heard from upstairs. "I'm just about ready, or I would've come to the door myself."

"No, I think it's cool," Paige said, looking up towards the direction of Emily's voice. "It's like a built-in doorman."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Or a busybody," she said.

"A what?"

"A busy…" Emily laughed softly and took a couple of steps into the hallway, leaning over the railing. Paige saw that her hair was almost done, fresh out of curlers, and that she had on an oversized white button-down shirt, presumably to protect her top as she finished her make-up. "You're not a Philly girl, are you?" Emily gestured for Paige to come upstairs. Once she got there, they hugged but only touched at the lips. Emily kept her distance, as if she didn't want to get anything on Paige's dress. She took Paige's hand and led her into the bedroom, where she pulled up the shade and pointed out the busybody outside of the window. It was a set of mirrors hanging from a post, angled in such a way as to give a view of who was at the door. "Supposedly," she explained, "Ben Franklin invented it so he could see when his mother-in-law came to visit."

Emily patted the bed, indicating that Paige should sit there. She squeezed Paige's thigh as she scooted past her on the way to the bathroom. "I'll just be a sec."

"Anyway," she continued as she took off her shirt and poofed out her hair, "I like the look of the busybody. It fits in with the character of the block, you know?" Emily paused to pucker her lips as she applied some lipstick. "But the Ring is more practical."

Paige nodded, but, realizing that Emily couldn't see her, called out, "Uh huh!"

Emily appeared in the doorway with that smile that lit up a room. "Ready?"

Paige took a moment to take Emily in from head to toe. She was a vision. "Ready," Paige said reverently.

Emily led the way down the stairs. When they got to the front door, she braced herself on Paige's shoulder as she lifted one leg, then the other, to slide her feet into a pair of sandals. "Alexa – leaving!" At that, the lights dimmed and the air conditioning turned off.

"Wow, this is really like the house of the future, isn't it?"

Emily just smiled. "That's one of the reasons I wanted to get a fixer-upper. I wanted something that fit in with the rest of the houses, from the outside, but that I could customize the way I want to on the inside, you know?"

Paige gave a nod off appreciation, smiling in pride. It was going to be a good night.

* * *

Emily slight nervousness was showing in her posture and her slightly exaggerated steps. She wanted to be holding hands with Paige, but she wasn't ready to initiate it. She was a little worried that Paige would look at her funny or react badly if she tried. Paige looked over at her, all but asking whether she was okay. Emily smiled too quickly and then looked down. Paige took her hand, in hopes of calming her.

Emily led the way to a little storefront Italian restaurant that looked to be a holdover from the days when the neighborhood was mainly working-class Italian families. Each table had a candle sticking out of a wine bottle sitting on top of a plastic, red-and-white checked tablecloth. "Don't let the décor fool you," Emily said as they waited for the maître d'. "The food here is top-notch!"

"Girl!" The host was very animated at the sight of Emily, dropping his menus onto the podium and stamping his feet in excitement, with his arms extended for a hug. He was a tall-ish, slender man with bright yellow hair and eyebrows dyed to match. When the hug was over, he leaned back, theatrically touching his forefinger to his chin. "And who is this?" he asked suggestively.

"This is Paige," Emily said formally, gesturing with both hands. "Paige, this is Cheng."

Paige extended her hand and Cheng snickered. "Come here, girl," he said, bending at the waist but keeping his distance with his legs as he hugged Paige around the shoulders. "Any friend of Diva-girl here is family." Turning towards Emily, he scolded, "Even if she doesn't come around here anymore." He playfully wagged his finger in Emily's face. "You been cheating on me, Girl?"

Paige grinned in admiration. She always liked dining in restaurants where the owners and staff knew their clientele and made them feel special. And she liked supporting small, neighborhood businesses. As they followed Cheng to their table, she kissed Emily on the cheek, whispering, "Good choice!"

Emily giggled. "You haven't even seen the menu!"

"With a reception like that," Paige replied, "I can tell it's going to be great."

* * *

Dinner started out a little forced. Paige wanted to know a lot about Emily, but she wasn't sure what she could ask without being offensive or condescending. She wanted to know how Emily ended up in construction, but she didn't want to sound judgmental.

It was different, as a woman. A wealthy guy, dating a woman, doesn't care what she does; she could be a nurse, or a teacher, or a waitress. It's a power thing for rich guys – they're the breadwinners, and their girlfriends' job is more like some adorably cute hobby. But Paige wasn't looking for that dynamic. She respected Emily and her hard work. She wanted to affirm it, but she wasn't sure how.

"So, how did you become foreman?" There was a little tremble in her voice as she asked the question. People often asked her how she became a senior partner, and a lot of times, the question really meant, "How did a _woman_ become senior partner."

Emily laughed. "You don't know a lot about the trades, do you?"

Paige tightened her lips and shook her head slightly.

"Well," Emily said patiently, "after college, I just needed a mental break."

Emily didn't mention that she'd never gotten her college degree. It was a little soon for her to open up about everything.

"I started hanging around with a guy I knew from high school, Toby, and he taught me a few things about construction and the building industry. So, he had some friends in Philly, and I always wanted to live in the city, so he hooked me up with an apprenticeship. I worked my way up to journeyman and – yadda yadda yadda, I'm foreman." Emily shrugged. Paige nodded. "I thought it was just going to be a couple of years working with my friend, you know? But, then, I realized how much I hated the thought of being chained to a desk, trapped inside some office all day." Emily stopped abruptly, comfortingly rubbing Paige's hand. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with an office job!"

Paige patted Emily's hand that was on top of hers. "Oh, no, I get it. You're not going to find me defending an office job. Sometimes, I wish I had a job where I could work outdoors." Paige crinkled her nose and added, "Not in the winter, of course?"

Emily chuckled. "Or in the summer. Trust me, that humidity can be brutal when you're pouring concrete or driving rivets."

Paige nodded and took a sip of water. It got silent for a couple of seconds. "I actually went back to school and took some night classes to get my teacher certification a couple of years ago, thinking I'd be happier in the classroom."

"Is that still the plan?"

Paige looked off to the side, pensively. "It's more the dream, I guess. Like, if you're in a bad relationship, and you keep some money stashed away, telling yourself that you're going to leave sometime, but…"

"Whoa!" Emily was trying to be supportive, but she was actually concerned. "That sounds like a horrible way to make a living!"

Paige dipped her head. "I'm exaggerating. A little. And, I don't really _hate_ my job. I mean, I know I'm fortunate to have a job like that." She tightened her lip and tilted her head from side to side. "And, when I'm in the middle of something big, it's a huge adrenaline rush. That's when I actually like what I'm doing." She shrugged her shoulders. "And I'm really good at it, too."

Emily nodded knowingly. "Sounds like me and construction." The difference was that Emily loved construction.

"Yeah," Paige said softly. She looked down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers. "Plus, I know it's not so easy being a teacher. It's like this romantic vision I have, but I know there would be a lot of frustrations every day. It works better as a fantasy than as a career choice."

"I don't know," Emily said, taking a sip of wine. "I don't think I could stay in a job that I didn't enjoy doing."

They were talking about jobs, but Paige couldn't help thinking about relationships. After all, the story of her job was pretty much the same as her story with Tuesday. There had been some amazing times, like the adrenaline-rush times at work, but, mostly, it was just something that she held onto, despite the boredom. Emily, on the other hand, just admitted that she was the kind of person who moved on.

* * *

"Excellent choice!" Paige leaned back in her chair after they finished off the cannoli that they shared. "The food here is really top-notch!"

When the server came with the check, they both reached for it. Emily smacked Paige's hand away. "My streets, my eats!"

"Sorry," Paige said, looking down. "I'm just used to picking up the tab." She didn't want Emily to think that she assumed that she was going to pay because she had the most money.

"Well, you can put your wallet away tonight, Moneybags!"

"Okay," Paige said softly. It helped to hear Emily tease her about it, acknowledging the fact that Paige had more money than she did, but turning it into a joke, as if to say it didn't matter.

Emily gave Cheng a hug on the way out. "Perfect – as always," she said.

He gave her the side-eye. "So, does that mean you're going to come back and see me more often?" he asked, moving on to give Paige a hug, too.

"I'll see to it that she does!" Paige raised her eyebrows playfully towards Emily.

* * *

Emily took Paige's hand as they left the restaurant and started walking in the opposite direction from her apartment. "Are you up for a stroll?"

Paige chuckled. "I need one after that huge meal!"

Emily smiled, bumping her shoulder against Paige's. She let go of Paige's hand as she leaned in, and Paige wrapped her arm around her shoulder. Emily sighed, contentedly, and folded her arms in front of her. She let her head fall on Paige's shoulder.


	8. Comfort Zone

Paige didn't see Emily on Saturday. Emily had her swim team in the afternoon, and Paige knew that she needed to get herself and her team prepared for that. And she knew that Emily drove Uber on the weekends, and she didn't want to cut into that source of income.

It was one extra day apart, but, in some ways, it felt like a lifetime. Emily half wished that she would see Paige in the stands again, but she understood why she didn't come. She didn't want to be a child about it; there was no rule that said that they had to spend every weekend together.

But it would have been nice.

Paige texted her good wishes before the meet, and Emily texted a quick recap after. Paige asked for the full rundown when she called to say good night.

There was no denying that they had grown close during the quick two weeks that they'd spent together. They were so close, in fact, that Paige finally felt comfortable enough to ask Emily what had been on her mind without worrying that Emily would take it the wrong way. They were at Sunday brunch in Center City (Paige's neighborhood) the next day, when she brought it up.

"So, why do you drive an Uber, anyway? I mean, I know how hard you work during the week. Plus the coaching. You must be exhausted."

"You got that right!" Emily finished raising her wine glass to her lips and took a sip. "I do it for the money," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't like being in debt."

Paige nodded warily. "What kind of debt? Don't take that the wrong way, it's just... Well, I imagine you make a pretty good salary as a foreman."

"Not bad. But I want to pay down my mortgage early. I don't want to carry that expense for the next 30 years." Paige inhaled a little sharply, surprised at that answer. She nodded in admiration. "Thank you," Emily said with a wink.

"For what?"

Emily sighed. "For not offering to help me with my mortgage." Emily took another sip from her drink and held her glass up, staring into it. "You'd be surprised how many people I meet who want to be knights in shining armor and pay my bills."

Paige shook her head, rolling her eyes a little. "You don't need anyone to rescue you," she affirmed. "I can see you've got a good grip on things."

Emily snickered. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah. Most people I meet, our age, get a little bit of money – or even a lot of money – and - bam!" (Paige clapped her hands for emphasis when she said the word.) "Next thing you know, they're drowning in credit card debt. Because they're not thinking beyond what they want right now." Paige chuckled, looking away. "So, when someone says she has a 30-year plan..." (Paige chuckled slightly.) "...I'm impressed!"

Emily laughed lightly and stroked the back of Paige's hand with her finger. "I'm glad to know I impress you," she teased. She didn't want to dismiss Paige's compliment, but talking about money was getting to be a bit boring.

"You've never stopped impressing me."

Emily smiled shyly. "Well, it goes both ways."

Paige gestured for the server and mouthed the words, "Can we get the check please?" When she brought it over, Emily made a grab for it, knowing full well that Paige was going to parrot her words back to her. "My streets, my eats!"

"Fine, whatever!" Emily couldn't keep a straight face. She was having a great time. Paige was really good company.

"Are you up for a walk?"

Emily linked arms with Paige. "I'd love that."

They walked around Rittenhouse Square slowly, taking their time. They crisscrossed through the middle and found a bench to sit for a minute. They weren't tired, but it was a way to extend their time together, as late afternoon transitioned into early evening.. A little girl with a wand and a bottle of bubbles ran up to Paige, extending the wand towards her as an invitation to blow some bubbles. Paige looked at her mother, who smiled from a few paces away, letting Paige know that it was all right. Paige got down to her knees, at eye-level with the girl, and blew some bubbles. She dipped the wand into the soap and handed it back to the little girl. When the girl started blowing, Paige's eyes widened. "Wow!" she said enthusiastically, as if she'd never seen such a magnificent bubble before.

The girl took the wand over to Emily, who dipped it into the bottle, but, instead of blowing bubbles, swung it back and forth in front of her, letting the air blow the bubbles. It was the girl whose eyes widened this time, and her arm began flapping from her eagerness to try this trick herself. Emily loaded up the wand with some soap, and the girl gave it a go. She immediately ran to her mother, to show off her new technique. Paige stood up and took Emily's arm, helping her up. They waved to the girl's mother as they headed on their way.

When they got to Paige's building, they lingered for a few minutes, delaying their inevitable parting.

"I can't believe you've never seen Stranger Things."

"What's so hard to believe about that, Paige?"

"I don't know, maybe that you're the only person in Philadelphia who hasn't seen it."

"Oh really?" Paige nodded. "So, of all the one and a half million people in Philadelphia, one million…" (Emily didn't feel like working out the number.) "yadda-yadda-999 have seen Stranger Things?"

"Yup!"

"That's your theory?"

"And I'm sticking with it!"

"Fine," Emily said resolutely. "I'll just take a poll…"

She started to walk up towards a stranger, but Paige grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Okay, okay, okay. So, maybe you're not the _only_ person. But my point is, you should really watch it."

"I will." Emily sighed. "Someday."

"No, not someday! Right now!"

Emily chuckled. "Are you inviting me up to your place?"

Paige put her hands out in front of her. "Just Netflix," she said firmly. "Not Netflix and chill."

Emily smiled mischievously. "So, I guess the maid's been there this week?"

Paige half-laughed and dipped her head. She took Emily's hands. Emily could tell that she had something serious to say. "The reason I didn't invite you up before is that… Well, I guess I didn't want to appear pretentious." Emily nodded, to let Paige know that she was following. "I mean, I know a lot of people try to impress others by what they have and… Well, I just wanted you to get to know me better. You know, so you wouldn't think I was like that."

Emily touched Paige's cheek. "Oh, Paige, of course I know that." Her face was full of concern, wanting to be sure that Paige believed her. When she saw Paige's shoulders relax, she smiled.

"So… Do you want to come up?"

"I would love to," Emily said. "But, I think it's a little late for Netflix."

Paige nodded in agreement. "How about cappuccino?"

"That sounds great."

* * *

"Good evening, Paige!" The doorman tipped his cap as he opened the door.

"Good evening, George." Paige rubbed her hand against Emily's back. "This is Emily."

"Ma'am," George said, with a tip of his cap towards Emily. She looked familiar, but it took a moment for him to place her as the woman who was usually there in a yellow vest and a hardhat.

Paige smiled uneasily when they were in the elevator. Emily got close and put her hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes, wondering what was on her mind.

"Okay, I hesitate to say this, because I'm pretty sure it's going to come out wrong," she said, looking first at Emily and then off to the side as she continued. "Just promise me that you'll let me finish saying what I have to say before you react." She nodded her head, to prompt Emily to nod hers.

"I will."

"Okay, well, you know how you said that rich people see you and act as if they have to take care of you?"

"Yeah…" Emily said slowly.

"Well, I just wanted you to know that I see the other side of that." The elevator dinged on Paige's floor and she stepped back, letting Emily get out. Once they were in the hallway, she gestured in the direction of her apartment.

"Sometimes, when I travel on business, my firm puts me up in these really fancy hotels. I mean, _really_ fancy. Five-star-plus hotels." Paige took a deep breath and let it out. "And, if I get back late from a meeting, it's… Well, you wouldn't believe all the 'pretty young things' in the lobby or the bar, strutting their stuff, trying to catch someone's eye."

Emily huffed in surprise. Paige reached for her key and let Emily inside her apartment.

"I just want to tell them, 'No! No! No! You're better than this! You deserve better than this!'" Paige shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway. That's the side I see. Once you get a certain amount of money, you never know who really wants to be your friend and who just wants you as a ticket to a better life, you know what I mean?" Paige motioned for Emily to sit on the couch and took her place next to her. She crossed her legs and took Emily's hand in her lap. "But I never had to worry about that with you. From the first time I saw you, I could tell that you weren't looking for anybody to take care of you."

"You could tell?"

Paige nodded. "Mm hmm. Oh, definitely. You just had a confidence about you, a self-assuredness, and…"

Emily, overcome with emotion, couldn't hold back anymore. She pushed Paige back against the couch and started kissing her. After a few moments, she backed away, teasing her hand through Paige's hair. "Well, I wouldn't say I didn't want _anything_ from you." She smiled lustfully, and Paige reversed their positions, kissing Emily against the cushions.

Emily couldn't control the sounds that she was making. It had been ages since she'd kissed anyone that passionately. The same was true for Paige. She started to get very warm, especially between her thighs. She backed off, crashing against the couch with a moan of frustration.

Emily took her hand and stroked it gently. She didn't want to get Paige overly excited. They both knew they needed to slow down. She pouted. "I should probably get going."

Paige sighed, not letting go of Emily's hand for a second or two. "I wish you could stay the night."

"I do, too." She smiled as Paige kissed her cheek. "Someday," she said wistfully.

Paige straightened out her blouse and stood up. "I'll walk you to your car."

"That's okay," Emily said, upbeat. "I think I need some fresh air."

Paige didn't argue. She understood why.

"Okay, but text me the minute you're inside with the doors locked." The look she was giving Emily was more like a mother's than a date's.

Emily blushed a little. She was enjoying Paige's overprotective side a little too much. She kissed her, and Paige kissed back, and, pretty soon, things started to get heated again. It took everything that Emily had to pull herself away. Their lips made a smacking noise as they parted. "I'd better go," Emily said softly.

"Text me!" Paige said sharply, pointing a finger at Emily's face.

* * *

Paige panicked twenty seconds later when her phone rang and she saw that the call was from Emily. It was too soon for her to have gotten to her car "Em? Are you okay? Where are you?"

Emily couldn't help laughing. "Paige, I'm in the elevator!"

Paige breathed again. "Oh, thank God!"

Emily laughed out loud again. "Shit, Paige! How far did you think I got since we said good-bye?"

"Oh," Paige said softly. She felt a little silly. "I… I guess… Sorry."

"It's fine." Emily laughed again. "I just figured you wouldn't relax until you heard from me, so…"

"Good call," Paige said. "Um, literally, I guess."

What Emily had said was true, but it wasn't the whole truth. She knew that Paige would worry. She loved that protective side of her. But that wasn't the only reason that she called. She called because she didn't want the night to be over.

"So, do you miss me?"

"You know I do."

"I miss you, too." Emily had asked as a joke, but hearing Paige's soft rumbling voice made her realize how much she already did miss her. "I like talking to you."

"I like it, too."

* * *

"Good night, George!" Paige heard through the phone

"Is that George?"

"Yeah. I just walked through the door."

"Tell him I say hi."

Emily, a little embarrassed at the thought, held the phone close to her lips and whispered, "I'm not going to tell him you say hi!"

"So, now you're like, what? Walking to your car?"

"Yes," Emily said dramatically. "Don't worry, George is keeping an eye out for me." She had just said it to keep Paige from worrying, but when she turned and looked behind her, she was grateful to see that George was, in fact, standing on the sidewalk, keeping watch to make sure that she was safe.

Paige heard two squeaks as Emily unlocked her car. "Is that your car?"

Emily giggled. "I love doing this live vlog with you of me walking out to my car."

"I wish it _were_ a vlog," Paige complained. "Then I'd get to see you. – You know," she added quickly, "just so I could tell that you were safe."

They both knew that it was more than that.

"Okay, did you hear that? That was the sound of my doors locking."

"So, you're going to hang up on me now?" Paige said sadly.

"I don't want to…"

Emily switched her phone to speaker and tossed it onto the passenger seat. It was almost like having Paige in the car next to her. She smiled at that thought, even though she knew how sappy it was. Paige lay on her bed with her knees up and her feet down on the mattress. Her phone was on her stomach.

They stayed on the phone till Emily made it home. It was late, and the next day was Monday, or they would have stayed on even longer.

"Thanks for everything tonight."

"You're welcome. It was a great evening. I had a wonderful time."

"I did, too." Emily, feeling romantic, pulled a strand of hair over to her lips, holding it between her thumb and forefinger. "I can't wait to see you again."

"I can't, either. Good night."

"Good night." Emily didn't hang up. Paige didn't, either. "I'll see you in about…" Emily shifted her phone so that she could see the time. "Ooh, I guess about six hours."

Paige winced at how late it was. "Yeah. I guess I'd better let you go."

* * *

When Emily's phone rang and she saw that the call was from Paige, her heart stopped. Paige never called her at work. Even though Emily had assured her that she would never pick up her phone unless it was safe to do so, Paige still refused, worried that calling Emily at work would set off a chain of distraction-related events that would result in a catastrophe. So, the fact that Paige was calling her meant that something must have happened.

"Paige?" Emily's voice was heavy with concern.

"He almost died, Emily?" Paige was crying and her voice sounded desperate. Emily's back stiffened as she leaned over her desk, her fingers turning white as she squeezed her hand into a fist.

"Who almost died?"

Emily did her best to keep up with the words that were gushing out of Paige's lips, but Paige was talking too fast and not speaking in complete thoughts.

"Paige!" The sharpness in Emily's voice stopped Paige. She took a breath. "Are you safe?" That was Emily's biggest concern.

Paige nodded. "I'm safe."

"Where are you?"

Paige heard the fear in Emily's voice and realized that she needed to calm down, for Emily's sake. "I'm in my office."

"Who almost died?"

Paige went back to the beginning. "We were having a party at lunch, to celebrate – I don't know, a birthday or an engagement, or something. Anyway, Hank, one of the associates, started laughing, and then he, like, choked on something. And everybody just panicked, and I was standing right next to him," – Paige's voice started getting high-pitched and emotional again – "and I should've done something, or called 911, or... but I just… _froze_." She cried into the phone. "I could've killed him!"

Emily softly, calmly, asked, "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Paige allowed, letting her hand crash from her forehead to her lap. "_Now_. No thanks to me! He could've died, Emily, because I froze, and I could've killed…"

Paige was sobbing, and it was getting hard to understand her again. Emily shifted in her chair. "It's not your fault, Paige. Plus, he's fine, right?"

Paige sighed. "I guess. I'm sorry, I… you're at work, I shouldn't have called you." Paige was about to hang up.

"No, Paige, I'm glad you called me. I just need to know that _you're_ all right."

"I'm fine," Paige said unconvincingly. "It's just, I'm supposed to be the calm one, the rational one, the one who doesn't get flustered. And then, there's an emergency, and I just froze." Paige was rubbing her forehead with her left hand and pounding her right hand against her thigh.

"You can't be so hard on yourself, Paige. I get how you feel, but you have to concentrate on the big picture. He's okay, now."

"I know," Paige said weakly.

"Are _you_ okay?"

Paige wiped her eyes with a sniffle. "I'm okay."

"Do you want me to come down there?"

Paige laughed. "You don't have to do that. Besides, you're working."

"I can come down there."

"I'm going home, now, anyway. I just need to clear my head."

"Do you want some company?"

"You're at work, Em."

"Paige!" Emily kept herself from grunting in frustration. "Don't be so stubborn!" Her tone softened. "Just let me take care of you."

Paige smiled. "Okay."

"Do you want me to swing by there and pick you up?

"That would be great."

They didn't go to Paige's place. They went to Emily's. It was a bit farther, but Emily thought that the drive might help Paige calm down. Besides, she assumed - correctly - that Paige wouldn't want her doorman or any of her neighbors to see her in that condition. Emily held Paige's hand the entire time, feeling a bit relieved when Paige's grip started to relax a little bit.

When they got inside Emily's house, Emily made Paige a cup of tea and sat on the couch. Paige lay with her head in Emily's lap, facing away from her. Emily stroked her hair slowly, from the top of her head down to her arm. Paige's eyes were open, but it almost felt as though she were sleeping. She couldn't remember when she had felt that safe before. She couldn't remember when things had felt so right before.

They never said a word, and Emily would have thought that Paige had fallen asleep, were it not for the occasional moans that Paige made as Emily's fingers kept brushing through her hair. They didn't need words. They both just knew.


	9. The Pyramid Club

Paige was jumpy, full of nervous excitement. This was going to be the night. She had decided. This would be night when she told Emily how she felt.

Paige had been very careful about using the L word, ever since the first time that she used it. That first time, she said it out of desperation, not really even understanding what it meant. She would have said anything to keep Shana from leaving. Unfortunately, "I love you" wasn't enough to make her stay. Paige had been devastated by the experience, but she learned from it. She would never say those words again unless she knew that, whatever the consequences, she really meant them.

She had done a lot of thinking about Emily and their relationship over the few months they had been dating, and she realized that Emily had checked all of the boxes. It wasn't just a physical thing or an intellectual thing, or even an emotional thing. They connected, on a much deeper level. Two hearts, one soul. That phone call earlier in the week, when Emily talked Paige down and made her feel safe, was huge, of course. But it was something deeper than that. Paige knew that the time was right when she realized that she cared more for the protection of Emily's heart than for her own; that she could risk getting her own heart broken, knowing that Emily's heart would be safe.

The timing was right. It was their six-month anniversary. They were going to do it right – get all dressed up and go to dinner at one of Paige's favorite places, the Pyramid Club, on the 52nd floor of the Mellon Bank building in Center City.

Paige wanted the night to be perfect. That was what had her so nervous. She wasn't worried that it was the wrong time, and she wasn't worried about how Emily would respond. She was nervous that she wouldn't get the words out right, or that, somehow, she would find a way to ruin a perfect moment. She had been up all night doing mental run-throughs, preparing as intensely as she had for any meeting with her firm's biggest client.

_Deep breaths; focus; mindfulness._

* * *

Paige's driver pulled up to Emily's house, and Paige fairly jogged from the car to Emily's front door. When Emily opened the door, Paige's mouth dropped. Emily knew that Paige was going to wear a black suit with slacks, so chose a tailored, floor-length silver dress with a dramatic side slit, which she offset with a single-strand pearl necklace that had been handed down from her grandmother. It was a stunning effect.

Still, Emily was self-conscious.

"Is this okay?"

"Em, you look…" Paige, her mouth still open wide, shook her head, amazed. "...Wow!"

Emily's shoulder dropped in frustration. "Okay, I know that you like me no matter what, but I don't want to stick out in a room full of rich people, looking like the girl from South Philly who doesn't know how to dress."

Paige reached down to Emily's side and took her hand. She pulled herself closer and kissed Emily's cheek. "You look like a million bucks," she said into Emily's ear. Emily smiled weakly. Paige led her by the hand to the car. "The two of us together, we look like the top of a wedding cake!" Paige regretted those words as soon as she said them. She didn't want to seem casual about the topic of marriage on the night when she was going to tell Emily that she loved her. She didn't want Emily to think that she was just casually throwing out that word.

* * *

Emily was starting to settle in and feel a bit at-ease at the Pyramid Club. She felt like an outsider, but not necessarily in a bad way. She felt like a tourist in another country. It wasn't that she didn't belong, but just that she wasn't entirely familiar with the language or the customs. Fortunately, she had a native by her side to guide her.

She was trying to relax for Paige's sake. It was obvious that something was just a little off with Paige. She seemed nervous; fidgety. Emily told herself that it was because Paige was worried about her being uncomfortable and intimidated among all the wealthy snobs. Deep down, though, it was hard for Emily not to think that Paige, too, was worried that Emily would say or do something to show that she didn't belong there.

* * *

"Hey," Emily whispered, "Isn't that that guy from your building?"

Paige turned in the direction where Emily had been looking. "What guy from my building?"

"You know… No Jacket Required?"

"Who?" Paige caught side of someone whom she recognized from her building. "Oh, Lorne?"

Emily shrugged. "I guess."

"What'd you call him? No Jacket Required?"

Emily giggled shyly. "That's what my guys call him." She crinkled her nose. "They have nicknames for everybody."

"Why? Because he looks like Phil Collins?"

"What? No… Phil Collins?" Emily was shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yes, Phil Collins. You're like six months younger than me; don't pretend that you've never heard of Phil Collins."

Emily rolled her eyes. "No, of course I know who Phil Collins is, but what does he have to do with anything?"

"You know, his album - 'No Jacket Required'?"

"His... what?" Emily laughed lightly. "They call him that because he never wears a jacket. Like, no matter how cold it is, he's always carrying his jacket over his shoulder."

Paige tilted her head, processing that information. Now that Emily mentioned it, Paige guessed it was true, but she never would have noticed that he never wore a jacket. "So, they have nicknames for everyone?"

Emily nodded. "Pretty much."

"So... what do they call me?"

"Um… nothing?" Emily elongated the word and looked away from Paige. It would have been hard for her to act more suspicious.

Paige contorted her head to find Emily's eyes. "Em…"

"Miss Fancy Pants?" Emily squinted her eyes, looking like a submissive puppy.

"Fancy Pants?" Paige looked at what she was wearing. "How am I… I mean, fancy?" She gestured at her outfit.

Emily sighed. She couldn't lie to Paige. "Okay," she said slowly. "They don't call you Miss Fancy Pants."

"No?"

"Miss Fancy Pants is what they call me." Paige tilted her head and cocked her eyebrow. "You know..." - Emily lowered her voice in a mocking tone - " 'girl on the construction site.' They used to call me that behind my back, but, once they found out that I knew my stuff, it became, you know, sort of an ironic nickname."

Paige nodded her head, a bit impatiently. She didn't want to seem uninterested, but she was curious about what was so horrible that Emily didn't want to tell her. "So… what _do_ they call me?"

Emily took a deep breath and let it out. "Steak and shake," she said flatly.

"Okay…" Paige was still confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Emily couldn't look at her. "Well, they say that, when I look at you when you…" Emily held her hands out, about Paige's width apart, swaying them from side to side in an exaggerated impersonation of the way Paige walked, "… _shake_" (Paige couldn't help scoffing at the implication.) "I'm drooling like a dog looking at a steak." Emily threw her hands up. "They only say it to mess with me, she said apologetically. Paige smiled weakly, still processing it all. Emily crinkled her nose. "Sorry," she whispered.

Paige took her hand. "It's fine," she assured her.

Paige's hand was cold and clammy. Emily surrounded it with hers, to warm it up. "Paige, are you all right?"

"Yeah," Paige said unconvincingly, looking off to the side. "It's just… I…"

Paige was trying hard to calm herself down and say what she needed to say. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a couple coming into the room and her breath hitched. She hoped that Emily hadn't noticed, but Emily's eyes followed to where Paige's eyes were looking. Paige looked down, as if trying to hide from the couple.

"Who is that?" Emily asked meekly, half-knowing the answer - and half afraid of it.

Paige stammered. She hoped beyond hope that Tuesday hadn't seen them, but when Tuesday left her companion in the foyer and headed over to their table, Paige knew that the jig was up.

Paige had never considered that they'd run into Tuesday at the Pyramid Club. It wasn't one of the places that they frequented when they were together. And, even so, Paige wasn't trying to hide Emily from Tuesday, or vice versa. She actually wanted them to meet; she thought they'd get along. But not on their anniversary. Not on the night when she was going to confess her feelings to Emily. And not when Tuesday had that look in her eye.

"Well, if it isn't Paige McCullers," Tuesday said, intentionally louder than necessary, drawing the attention of the people seated nearby. There was a snideness in her tone. Before Paige could reply and try to defuse the situation, Tuesday turned to Emily and continued. "And you must be… the reason behind Paige's sudden interest in exploring how the working class lives."

Paige was mortified. She mouthed a "Sorry" to Emily, but Emily didn't see. Her eyes were locked on Tuesday, who was confirming her every fear about the fact that she didn't belong there.

Tuesday wasn't stopping. "How are you, Honey? Enjoying your big night out with all the special people? This must be the quite a thrill for you."

Paige squeezed Emily's hand, but Emily's hand went limp.

Paige was in shock. She had never seen Tuesday like this. And for the second time in a week, when confronted with a high-stress situation, she froze. Before she recovered enough to tell Tuesday to go fuck herself, Tuesday moved on, smugly content with the damage she had done.

Paige lowered her eyes, looking into Emily's as Emily looked at the table. "Emily, I am so sorry for that."

Emily collected herself and forced a smile. "It's fine," she said softly, but it clearly wasn't.

It all made sense – Paige's nervousness, the way she kept looking around, the reason for taking her to such a fancy place. It was a "pig party." Emily had heard of those, but she didn't know that they existed in real life; at least, not outside of college fraternities. The concept was simple: Find some loser and pretend that you're into her, string her along for a couple of months to make sure she believes you, then take her out and put her in her place in the most humiliating way possible.

Emily had actually let Paige convince her that she looked like someone who belonged with the wealthy crowd in the Pyramid Club, but it only took one glance for Tuesday to recognize her for a fraud; the poor stepsister who thought she could fool the prince into thinking that she was royalty. She suddenly felt very small.

Of course, none of that was true. Paige hadn't been pretending, and she hadn't lied when she told Emily about the way that she looked. The only reason Tuesday knew that she was any different from the rest of the people there was that Tuesday remembered her from the construction site. But after Tuesday's little stunt, it would have been difficult if not impossible for Paige to convince Emily of that - if Emily had even given her the chance to try.

Emily knew how she was supposed to react. She was supposed to be the stereotypical, uncouth South Philly girl; throw her drink at Paige and call her every name in the book before stomping out of the room in a huff. But she refused to give Paige the satisfaction. She was just going to have to get through it; play along until they finished dinner, as if she didn't know what was going on. As if she didn't know that everyone was secretly laughing at her. She just wanted to cry; to lean on – well, not Paige's, but _someone's_ shoulder and let it all out. But she had to be strong.

Paige just kept telling Emily how sorry she was. And asking Emily whether she was all right, and whether they needed to go. Emily waved her off, insisting that she was fine even though it was obvious that she wasn't. Paige couldn't figure out how to make things better. There was no way that she could go through with her plan to tell Emily that she loved her. There wasn't a less-perfect moment in the universe for that. And there was no way that Emily would believe her, after everything that had happened. It would have come off as a clumsy attempt to paper over the humiliation that Tuesday had caused.

They sat in silence for most of the rest of dinner. When it was about time for dessert, Emily picked up her handbag and took out a Tylenol.

"Got a headache?"

Emily smiled weakly. "I'm getting one."

"Do you just want to call it a night?"

Emily nodded. "That's probably the best idea."

Paige texted the driver, and she and Emily waited on the sidewalk for him to pull the car around. In the car, Paige put her arm around Emily and pulled Emily's head onto her shoulder. Emily didn't resist. Despite everything that had happened, her heart still wanted that. Her mind knew better, but it decided that it was the best way to play it. She wasn't going to confront Paige. There was nothing Paige could say to defend herself, and Emily wasn't interested in more lies.

Their evening ended as every other one had, with Paige saying, "I'll call you," and Emily smiling.

* * *

Paige had never gotten Emily's voicemail before, but she wasn't worried that Emily didn't pick up. She knew that Emily had a headache, and she assumed that the Tylenol had made her drowsy. She left a message apologizing once more for Tuesday's behavior and saying that they would have to celebrate again, under better circumstances. She almost ended with, "I love you," but she didn't want the first time she said it to be over the phone.

It wouldn't have mattered. Emily never listened to the message.


	10. Ghosted

Paige waited an extra minute or two in front of her building before she got into her car on Monday morning. In the end, when Emily didn't show up as she had pretty much every day for the last six months, Paige wasn't too worried. Well, she was worried that Emily wasn't feeling any better and probably had to miss work, but she wasn't worried about their relationship. She fired off a text on her way to the office – "Missed you this morning. I hope you're feeling better. X"

Emily saw whom the text was from and clicked her tongue, deleting it immediately. She put her head in her hands and slumped down on the desk in her trailer. That's how Brad found her when he came by with her coffee.

"Hey – are you all right?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said sharply, not lifting her head.

"Something happen this weekend?"

Emily lifted her head slowly and glared at him. "I. Don't. Want. To. Talk. About. It."

Brad gingerly put the coffee onto the table and shuffled backwards out of the room, waving his hands in front of him. "Yes, Ma'am, Ms. Fields!"

She hated being called that. And she knew why Brad did it. She was being an asshole, playing the boss card instead of respecting him as the friend he was. She sighed. She shouldn't have taken her frustration out on him. She didn't feel like talking about it, but she there was no need for her to be so mean to him. She would apologize. Eventually. She just needed to get herself together first. It was going to take a few days.

* * *

When Emily didn't show up – or pick up – on Tuesday, Paige had to admit her worst fears: Emily was ghosting her. Paige was upset. She tried to be upset with Emily, for not respecting their relationship enough to talk about what had happened. She tried to be upset with Tuesday, for her inexcusable behavior. But, in the end, she was only upset with herself. She should've shut Tuesday down and stood up for Emily, but she just sat there like a mummy. She was used to pressure. Handling pressure was what made her good at her job. But twice in one week, when it really counted, she froze.

The truth of the matter was that she had been blindsided. She'd never seen that side of Tuesday before. Tuesday never let anything get to her; she had a casual, easy-come-easy-go attitude about everything in life. Paige understood, of course, why she had lashed out. She was hurt, and she wanted Paige to hurt, too. Paige was mad at herself for not predicting how the break-up would affect Tuesday. If she had only known, she could have done things differently – although, for the life of her, she couldn't think of what she could have done differently with Tuesday.

There was no use dwelling on what had gone wrong. She had to figure out how to fix it.

On Wednesday night, after she got home and changed, she stopped by a florist's on the way to Emily's house. She stood on Emily's stoop, pressed the bell, and stared up at the busybody, hoping that Emily would at least see the flowers and see that she had made a gesture. When she got no response, she stepped back a little, trying to position herself in front of the camera on the doorbell. She mouthed the word, "Please," with a pained expression. Maybe Emily wasn't home, and maybe she was somewhere where she would be able to respond to the alert on her phone from the doorbell camera, but Paige wanted her, at least, to see the sincerity on her face. They really needed to talk. She sighed, frustrated, and, after holding up the flowers for the camera, laid them on the top step. She ripped off a corner of the piece of paper that they were wrapped in and left a note, asking Emily to talk to her.

Emily had been watching the entire scene from her bedroom, clinging to a stuffed bear with her face buried in the top of its head, to stifle her tears.

She had seen this movie before: The popular kids decide to have some fun playing a trick the plain girl, so their most popular one makes a play on her, gets her to trust him and fall for him, only to humiliate her. But, somewhere along the way, the popular boy finds that he has developed feelings for the plain girl. He eventually confesses, she eventually forgives him, and they live happily ever after. But that was bullshit. Emily wasn't that girl. She may not have been rich, but she wasn't inferior to Paige and her rich friends. And she didn't need a Prince Charming to transform her into a princess, the way the popular boy inevitably did in the movies. She just wanted someone she could love. Social status didn't have anything to do with it. She wasn't inferior to Paige and her rich friends – and she wasn't superior, either. Everyone's the same. She thought that Paige understood that. She hugged her teddy a little tighter, wiping her tears against its soft, curly fur.

* * *

Paige became numb. She wasn't angry anymore, not even at herself. She wasn't depressed and she wasn't pining away after Emily. She was just hollow; empty.

After other break-ups, she had made some poor decisions, taking to bars or to hook-up apps to find someone bang for a night, letting some random girl get under her so she could get over the girl who broke her heart. But not this time. Not after Emily. That would have required motivation, something Paige simply didn't have anymore of. She was going through the motions. She put in long hours at the office and ordered take-out for dinner when she got home. She even stopped going to the gym. The cumulative effect was beginning of her new lifestyle to show. She would have to pick up some new business suits, with slightly more generous proportions.

* * *

Emily was lying on her back in bed on a particularly lonely Saturday night. She felt like an idiot. That was probably what hurt her the most about the entire ordeal with Paige – how stupid she had been. She hadn't been looking for love when Paige came along. And she certainly hadn't been looking for a rich sugar-momma or a ticket to the high life. Emily had made some mistakes, and she had a few missed opportunities in her past, but she was proud of the woman she had become. She may not have had a fancy office in one of the skyscrapers in Center City, but she earned a decent living, and she had worked her way up to a position of management. No one could tell her that the job Paige had was any more valuable to society than what she did. And, besides, she never aspired to do the kind of work that Paige did or live Paige's life. She wasn't at the Pyramid Club to try to be someone she was not or to try to fool people into thinking she belonged. She was there for one reason: Paige. Because she loved… because she loved _being_ with Paige.

Emily sat up on her side, leaning on one elbow as it hit her. _Paige knew all of this._ Paige wasn't pulling some kind of scheme on her; she had been way too invested to have been faking it the whole time. And then there were the kisses. Emily ran her fingers across her lips, unaware that she was doing so. You can't fake a kiss.

Looking at it objectively, there was one inescapable conclusion: Paige was at the Pyramid Club for the same reason Emily was. She was there to be with her girlfriend; she didn't care about anything else.

Emily sank down onto her back on the bed. She had been a fool – a fool for not trusting Paige.

* * *

On Monday morning, Paige plodded listlessly into her car. Her life had become a series of movements from one box to another: From her apartment building to the car, from the car to her office building, from the lobby to the elevator, from the elevator to her office, and from her office back to elevator and all of the other boxes that led back to her apartment. She hardly spent any time out in the sun anymore.

As she shuffled through the open door, she gasped when she felt a hand on her back, pushing her inside. She panicked, looking to the front seat for help. She saw the divider start to go up, though, and she realized who was behind her. Her face turned to stone as she turned to face Emily. "What?" Her tone was totally devoid of emotion.

It was Emily's turn to panic. She had never seen that side of Paige before, her face full of rage; her body rigid and unapproachable. Emily forgot the entire speech she had planned to give her. She didn't know what to do, but she had to do something, so she kissed Paige.

Paige's lips melted against Emily's. It was a reflex; muscle memory. But it only lasted a second before Paige came to her senses and pushed Emily away. "Why are you here, Emily?" She didn't sound angry or sad. She sounded like a lawyer in a contentious divorce.

If Emily had come back after a week, Paige would've welcomed it. If she had come back after two weeks, Paige would have been relieved. But it had been almost a month, and Paige was just starting to feel that she was healing; that she would be able to move on from Emily. Emily showing up and acting as if nothing had happened felt like a dagger through her heart. Just as Paige was starting to think clearly again, Emily showed up, bringing confusion back. Paige wasn't having it.

Emily withdrew from Paige. She looked up at her briefly, but the cold expression that she saw on Paige's face was more than she could bear, so she looked down at her hands as she spoke. "I'm here to say I'm sorry."

Paige rolled her eyes. Her first instinct was to kick Emily to the curb. Emily didn't deserve the chance to apologize - the chance that Emily never gave her. She remembered how much it hurt not to have the opportunity to explain herself. She tightened her lips and huffed out a breath through her nostrils, the anger still evident on her face. She wasn't going to do to Emily what Emily had done to her.

"I'm sorry that I didn't trust you. And I'm sorry that I listened to someone I don't even know, instead of believing you… believing _in_ you. Paige..." - Emily looked up, but only at the headrest in front of her, not at Paige. - "… this isn't an excuse, but all of my life, I've had to deal with the fact that I'm wasn't living up to other people's expectations. When I got hurt and couldn't swim anymore; when I got depressed and started drinking and had to drop out of school; when I started working in a trade instead of a profession." Emily's head was swinging left to right as she spoke. "So, when Tuesday started saying all of those things, it just reinforced my insecurities." Emily looked at Paige for only the amount of time that it took her to say the next sentence. "But I should have believed you."

Emily turned her head back to her lap and swiped her palm underneath her eyes, wiping the tears away. "And I'm sorry that I was too hurt and too… selfish to give you the opportunity to talk about it. I'm sorry that I didn't take your calls. And I'm sorry that I wasn't honest with you about how I was feeling." Emily sniffled once and hung her head.

"Okay." There was still no emotion in Paige's voice. The word landed like a dagger in Emily's heart.

Emily turned towards Paige and looked at her. If this was the end, she at least wanted Paige to see her face. She put her hand on Paige's wrist. Paige glared down at the hand, but Emily didn't pull it away. Her voice was barely audible when she spoke. "I know that I don't deserve a second chance, but I just hope that, someday, you can find a way to forgive me for being such a idiot."

Emily turned quickly towards the door, trying to get out of there before she broke down in tears completely.

"Wait."

Emily stopped, but she didn't turn around. She deserved to get yelled at; she owed Paige that much, but she couldn't handle seeing Paige's face as she did it. Paige put her hand on Emily's shoulder to turn her, and, as Emily turned, Paige pulled her into a hug. Emily held on tight, her body convulsing into sobs as she found herself once again in Paige's arms. After a bit, Paige tried to pull away, but Emily refused to let go. Paige was forced to say what she wanted to say into Emily's ear.

"You get as many second chances as you need," she whispered, pausing before she choked out the rest of her thought, "because I love you."

Emily pulled away in shock at the sound of those words. She was too stunned even to smile. All that she could do was hold Paige again her body still palpitating against Paige's as her tears landed on Paige's blouse.

* * *

**A/N - For any Alistina fans out there, that last scene was based on Christina's apology to Alice in the car. They did it much better, of course! I can't post a link to the scene here, but you can find it on youtube at ****WLyk23j86Tw (or search youtube for "10 Christina & Alice 28.12.2012"). The video is 40 minutes long; the car scene starts at about 27 minutes 30 seconds.**

**Thanks for reading! 3**


	11. Epilogue: My Uptown Girl

Later that evening, Emily lay on her couch, burrowed in Paige's arms. It had never been the norm for them to get together on a weeknight, but it was understandable, given how long they had been apart and how much they had missed each other.

The couch was a little too small. They would have been more comfortable on Emily's bed. More comfortable physically, at least. Emotionally, it would have been much more awkward. They still had a lot of rebuilding to do.

Emily opened her eyes and tilted her head slightly upwards, though not enough to see Paige's face. "Did you hate me?"

She felt Paige shaking her head. "I never hated you."

Emily pulled away slightly, so that she could look into Paige's eyes so that Paige could see her skepticism. "I'd never seen you look at me the way you did in the car this morning."

Paige shifted positions, to make it easier for her to return Emily's gaze. "That wasn't hate," she assured her. "It was…" It took a moment for Paige to come up with the words. "It was self-defense. I had finally gotten past everything that I'd been feeling, and, then you showed. I was afraid that, if I you hurt me again, I would never recover.""

Emily looked away, saddened to hear that Paige had gotten past her feelings for her. "I never got over you," she confessed softly.

Paige kissed the top of Emily's head. She sat up on the couch, crisscrossing her legs in front of her, facing Emily. Emily sat up, too, so that they were face to face. "I wouldn't say that I got over you. It was more like…" - she looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully - "It's like… Well, have you ever had a callus?"

Emily snorted a laugh through her nostrils, spreading her fingers out wide in disbelief at the question. "Paige," she said, her tone showing how obvious the answer was , "I work in _construction_!"

"Oh, yeah." Paige's head wobbled at how silly it was of her to ask that.

Emily took Paige's left hand and looked it over, running her fingers over its smooth, soft palm. "Have _you_ ever had a callus?"

Paige rolled her eyes and pulled Emily's hand against her knee. "Yes, I've had a callus," she said in a condescending tone.

Emily tapped her finger against Paige's thigh as if she were typing out words on her phone. It tickled, and Paige squirmed a little. "A little callus on your fingertip from tapping out all those memos on your phone?"

"Ha ha," Paige mocked, grabbing Emily's hand again, to get her to stop tickling her. "Anyway," she said, faux-annoyed, "It was kind of like that. Like a callus. My heart was wounded and vulnerable, so it callused over, as a way to protect itself."

Emily leaned against Paige's chest, too ashamed to look at her. Paige slid her arm around Emily's shoulder and held her close. "I'm sorry," Emily said softly.

Paige rubbed Emily's arm and kissed her on the side of her head. "You don't have to say that anymore. We've both admitted what we did wrong, and we've forgiven each other. Now it's time to let the healing start."

Emily really wanted it to be that easy, but she was having a hard time believing that it actually could. She started to get overwhelmed just thinking about it all. She decided that she needed to set it aside. Instead, she started kissing Paige. She reached behind Paige's head and undid her hair, stroking it up and down as they kissed. Paige kept pulling her tighter and tighter, kissing her more and more desperately.

Emily rested her eyes, resting her head against Paige's chest. She felt safe.

Paige wasn't sure about what she was about to say, but she said it anyway. "You know, the funny thing… Well, not funny 'Haha,' but…" Emily's head rose and fell with the rising and falling of Paige's chest when Paige took a deep breath. "I had been planned for that night to be the night when I told you that l you that I loved."

"I wish you had." The words came out before Emily realized that she had said them out loud. She caressed Paige's cheek, to take a bit of the sting away, worried that Paige would start to blame herself for what happened that night.

"I wish I had, too," Paige said wearily. "But I kind of thought that you wouldn't have been willing to hear it after everything that happened."

"No, you're right. I probably wouldn't have." Emily looked up at Paige and smiled sadly. "I guess I wish you had said it before. It might have made it easier for me to handle everything else that happened."

"Yeah." Paige looked off to the side. "I was waiting for the perfect moment." She shook her head, thinking about how poorly that evening had gone. "If I'd had any idea…"

Emily cut her off. "Oh, no, how could you have known?" She stroked Paige's stomach. "I would never blame you for what Tuesday did, Paige."

Paige frowned at the thought of what Tuesday did. Emily, seeing the look on her face, put her hand on Paige's cheek, stroking her lips with her thumb. Paige took Emily's hand between both of hers when she was ready to talk again. "You know, looking back on it, I realized that she didn't doing it out of jealousy. She just wanted to hurt me, you know what I mean? I don't even think she was trying to hurt you by what she said as much as she was trying to hurt me by hurting you." Paige thought for a second and added, "I mean, I know she actually _did_ hurt you. She scoffed to herself. "Obviously, they did, but…"

Emily rubbed the top of Paige's chest. She didn't want to see her flustered, and she didn't want tog with "We don't have to talk about it."

"We don't have to talk about it," Paige mumbled back. She gave Emily's lips a peck.

Emily nestled back into Paige's arms. "Have you talked to her?"

Paige sighed. She wasn't sure what point Emily was trying to make; would she be upset if she had talked to Tuesday, or did she think that they needed closure? "No," she admitted at last. "I guess I have to, eventually, but I'm not looking forward to it."

Emily nodded against Paige's chest. She lifted her head and laughed. "What kind of name is Tuesday, anyway?" Paige joined in the laughter, relieved more than amused.

Emily sat up on her knees and leaned into Paige, giving her a quick, reassuring kiss. "It _was_ perfect." Paige raised a questioning eyebrow. "When you told me that you loved me. It was perfect the perfect moment," Emily explained. She let her head drop. "I guess I was so overwhelmed by it all that I never said it back." She looked up. "But I do, Paige. I love you."

Paige put her hand behind Emily's neck and kissed her on the forehead. "I know."

"And I know you love me." Emily hesitated for a moment, her eyes letting Paige know that she had more to say. Paige smiled softly, to let her know that she was safe.

Emily turned her head aside. "Paige... when I was... thinking everything over..." - she looked back at Paige quickly, with a smile to disarm the euphemism she'd used to describe that dark period in their relationship - "I realized that you didn't have to prove your love to me. You had already proved it. I just needed to trust the evidence that had been right in front of me all the time."

Paige pulled Emily close to her, a little overwhelmed by what Emily had told her. Emily settled in against Paige's chest, her fingers nervously stroking Paige's stomach. "You know, before I got to know you, and even after we got together, I used to worry that I didn't have anything to offer someone like you."

Paige wanted contradict Emily, but she could see that Emily had a point to make, so she held her tongue.

"You were so sophisticated and put-together. You had everything money could buy. But, I realized that... _stuff_ wasn't what attracted me to you. And, I realized that we weren't so different. You have your insecurities, the same as I do. And you're looking for the same things out of life that I am." Emily laughed and intertwined her fingers with Paige's. "And you like me for who I am." She gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "The same way that I like you for who you are."

Paige kissed her back, unable to resist correcting her on that point. "I _love_ who you are."

* * *

**A/N - Well, this has really been like a roller coaster, hasn't it? Things moved a little too fast, there were some unexpected twists, and, before you knew it, it was over... :)**

**Thanks again to PaigeMarie712 for the prompt. Sorry; I feel that there was a lot more that could have been done with such a great prompt, but I'm struggling to write these days.**

**And thanks to all who made it to the end! Special thanks to those who reviewed - including 22b, whom I couldn't thank "personally" 'cause I couldn't DM! :)**

**Look after yourselves! I honestly love you all! 3**


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